Empire
by stalkerace
Summary: Throughout history, few had been given the power to control the destiny of their fellow men, but it is these captains of history that legends are made of. - H/Hr, Extreme AU, OC, OoC
1. Chapter I

**A/N: **I do not own Harry Potter or anything associated with it.

* * *

**PROLOGUE**

**Imperial Britannian Embassy**

**Madrid, Kingdom of Spain**

**June 18, 2006 **

The silence that had echoed around the fifty feet hallway that separated the office of the ambassador from the rest of the embassy complex was broken by the sound of footsteps.

Light as they may be, the sound made when the soles of the shoes stepped upon the hardwood floor of the second floor of the embassy echoed around the relatively narrow passageway, reflected back to where it came from by the specially designed hall, the features of which had allowed a speaker speaking from one side of the hall to be heard by a listener on the other side without the speaker raising his voice.

Unique amongst the embassies maintained by the Golden Throne, the Embassy of the Holy Empire in the Kingdom of Spain is a castle in all but name, and that was mostly because only Spanish nobility can own castles in the Kingdom. This veritable fortress had housed the representatives of the Holy Empire to the Iberian Peninsula since the end of the Napoleonic Wars, and had never been breached, even during the Spanish Civil War.

For the young woman who walked alone along the relatively narrow hallway, however, those are facts that she is not interested in right now. There are stories behind those times of changes that she admits she wishes to know, but as with everything there is a time for everything.

With a start and with a small smile on her face that was most likely directed toward herself, the young woman stopped. She turned her attention not toward her left hand side and toward the impressive collection of stained glasses that are one of the reasons why this building has been considered as a work of art in itself, but toward her right hand side, toward a wall filled with portraits that, while expertly done, are no more than replicas of the originals that hang in a similar hallway – albeit larger and without the design that made this hallway unique – back at the capital.

There is a time for everything, and the young woman knew, as she stared at a particular portrait that hangs before her, that she was early. As if she was not sure with her conclusions, she glanced at the gold and silver wristwatch – a present for her last birthday from her parents – that she wore upon her left wrist to check the time, and she grimaced – perhaps uncomfortably for her – when the two hands of her wristwatch told her that she was right.

She fought the urge to sigh, and the urge to wish that time would go faster. She was in the business of realities, not wishes, and she knew that there is no spell, no magic in the world, that could speed up time. The young lady knew that she could simulate the sensation of speeding up time, but unlike slowing down time, for one reason or another, speeding up time is impossible, even for magic.

The frown on the face of the young woman turned into a small smile as she patted the manila envelope that she had with her. She knew the contents of the envelope like the back of her hand, but that was because she was the one who had caused the preparation of the report inside, and she was the one who read the report after it was finished prior to presenting it to the Ambassador. The time that she has right now would not be spent wisely on rereading the report because she already knew what the report would say.

Instead, she refocused her attention upon the portrait in front of her. She knew that all Britannian embassies around the world – and all castles and palaces back home, plus the headquarters of the different government agencies, ministries, and departments – has a hallway dedicated specifically to these portraits. Copies they might be, but the history and the implication that they present to subject of the Emperor or to a foreigner visiting the hallowed hallways could not be denied.

This is the Wall of History, a wall within a hallway dedicated specifically to show the visitor the history of the Holy Empire of Britannia through portraits that showcase important world events, events that had brought the Holy Empire from its humble beginnings, a defeated nation that was forced to flee its homeland, to the world power that the Empire is today.

It is an Empire that could rightly claim that the sun never sets upon its territory.

Mentally, the young lady shook her head as she turned her attention toward the first portrait in the series. It was of a middle aged, slightly chubby and balding man as he stood in front of an assembled congress. It was obvious that he was addressing the gathering of men, and from the clothes that they wore, it was obvious that this was sometime during the Age of Revolutions.

_'Benjamin Franklin and the Estates-General,'_ the young woman thought to herself, naming that particular piece of artwork.

_'Sent to France by the Continental Congress after the start of hostilities that would later become known as the Continental Rebellion, for some reason or another, instead of soliciting assistance from France, he insulted the Estates-General and was expelled from the country,'_ she continued, closing her eyes as she recalled the history lessons that she had been taught when she was younger, '_Six months later, he died a broken man not ten kilometers away from where I am standing right now. In a sense, however, he is lucky, for he never got to see the end of the rebellion that he dedicated his life to a year later. I wonder, how different would history be if he had actually managed to convince France?'_

A smile came across the face of the young lady even as she shook her head. She is not the history major that her fiancée is, but she was familiar with history, if only because of the fact that her fiancée loved to speculate about how different the world would be today if the things that had happened in the past, happened differently.

She knew, however, that she has no time to reminisce about those days. She had to finish this meeting with the ambassador as soon as possible and return home because he is waiting for her to come back home.

Unfortunately, there is still no way for her to speed up time, so she instead turned her attention toward a second portrait. It was not the second in the series, but for her, the events that had come between the first portrait in the series and this one are unimportant events that she could skip.

The new portrait had a martial tone in it, but that was hardly surprising. The center of the portrait was occupied by a man in uniform as he directed red-coated soldiers towards position, while at the background; blue-coated infantry storm the beach that he was trying his best to defend.

_'The Defense and Fall of Kent,'_ she thought to herself, and as with the first portrait, that is the title of this particular work of art.

_'After the British Royal Navy's success in Trafalgar in 1805, the threat of invasion was said to have disappeared, but that assessment was wrong,'_ the young woman thought, '_Now bereft of protection for his barges, the French Emperor – whether by genius or by luck – decided that if he could not go through the waters of the English Channel, he would go underneath it.'_

She returned her attention toward the portrait, and a sigh escaped from her lips, '_Caught by surprise, the Duke of Kent could do little against the Grandee Armee of Napoleon and within weeks after the fall of Kent, the rest of the United Kingdom followed.'_

The young lady knew that the French Emperor had no need to march his army from Kent to the mountains of Northern Scotland; she knew that he only needed one thing, and he got that one thing.

Fighting the urge to curse under her breath, she turned her attention toward the next portrait, and this one is directly beside the previous portrait. The French Emperor cut a distinctive swath across the canvass, and the painter managed to impress the French Emperor upon the work of art as both arrogant and victorious, a combination that she had not seen in many other pictures. There was, however, a reason why the French Emperor looked smug in this portrait, and it had something to do with what the other man in the portrait with him was doing.

_'The Humiliation of Buckingham,'_ the young lady thought to herself as she focused her attention on the painting.

King George of the United Kingdom was literally sweating as the French Emperor and his marshals surrounded him and dictated the peace treaty that the British monarch was forced to sign to stop the rampaging French legion. Little did the last king of the Hanover line knew, however, instead of stopping the rampage; his signature at the end of a stack of paper legalized the rampage.

_'An unequal peace treaty that a King at the end of his wits was forced to sign, believing that this would end the war on the British Isles,' _the young lady thought, she shook her head before she added, '_He lived long enough to regret affixing his signature at the bottom of that paper.'_

Every Britannian child – even for those who were born in the British Isles following the reconquest of the Isles like her – knew of the horrors that had happened even before that treaty was signed. Every Britannian child also knew what happened next, if only because they swore every time that they sing their national anthem that they would never allow it to happen again.

With her fist clenched unconsciously, the young woman turned her attention to the next portrait. This next portrait was also the next in the series following the previous painting, but it is by far the more famous portrait, perhaps, even more well-known than the portrait that showed the founding of the Holy Empire.

_'The Passage of Tears,_' the young lady thought as she focused her gaze upon the canvas that stood in front of her.

'_The United Kingdom had fallen, and with its fall came the marauding invaders,'_ she thought, '_A small army – the Peninsular Army that had campaigned in the very land where I stand right now – held Cornwall and Southern Wales long enough to allow four thousand ships laden with refugees to cross the Atlantic, to the New World, but it was not enough.'_

She turned her attention toward the lower left hand corner of the portrait. It was a small portion, she knew, but it had become more powerful than the burning ships, the men fighting, and the march of civilians that occupied the rest of the painting. That scene where she focused all of her attention to was that of a mother as she handed her children to a strange in the hopes that the children would make it out of the burning United Kingdom.

That scene, the young lady knew, was based on reality. While the ever dwindling number of British soldiers and sailors delayed the French, civilians swarmed every ship that they could find, and when it became clear that the ships could not take everyone, mothers began handing their children to crews and to those lucky few who had passage.

It was hardly surprising that this is the most powerful portrait in the series. Unlike the rest of the portraits that hang upon the walls, the original copy of this portrait does not rest inside the Imperial National Museum in the capital. The original of this portrait rests within the personal apartments of the Imperial Family within the Crystal Palace where it serves as a reminder to those who rule the Holy Empire, _'Never Again.'._

The young lady closed her eyes as she forced herself to take three deep breaths. She knew that she needed to calm down, and she knew the exact portrait that she needed to see in order to calm down.

Skipping several years and a multitude of events later, the portrait that she stopped in front of was a festive one. Purple banners decorated the battlements of the castle that stood at the distance as people dance on the streets, but the real attention stealer in the portrait was the man who was at the center of it.

The smile on his face was deceptive, and the look of steel upon his dark blue eyes only served to highlight that all the more. The crown that rested upon his brow was new, but would soon become old; the scepter on his right hand would be destroyed in the numerous battles that it would be taken to, while the golden orb on his left would be shattered as it witnessed the rise of the Holy Empire.

_'September 18, 1822,'_ she thought, and a smile came across her face. More than a name of a painting, the date is symbolical, for it is the date of the founding of the Holy Empire of Britannia.

_'Emperor George I of York, the first Holy Emperor of Britannia,'_ the young lady thought as she stared at the likeness of the first Emperor forevermore painted upon the canvas, '_A survivor of the Passage of Tears, fervent diplomat, soldier, and politician, and founder of the Holy Empire of Britannia.'_

She knew the histories, of course. Emperor George vowed that he would retake the British Isles and make the Empire the most powerful nation in the world right after the crown was laid to rest upon his brow. That vow was fulfilled a few years later, but by that time, the founder, the first Emperor of Britannia had been long gone, his body resting behind a great stone where a statue of him rested.

She turned her attention to the next portrait in her series, once more skipping a few and jumping many years from where she last left off. The next portrait again had a martial tone.

_'The Launch of HMS Dreadnought,_' the young lady thought to herself. How apt it was that this event be included amongst the events that had changed the course of the Holy Empire. This was an event, however, that changed not only the Empire, but the whole world.

_'Moments after her launch in 1906, this battleship turned the number of first rate capital ships in the world to one,'_ she thought, and with a smile, she remembered that that was exactly how her liege lord had explained the importance of the launch, '_The first warship of the skies, she both destroyed and created nations.'_

_HMS Dreadnought _was the first warship in the world that could take to the skies through a combination of reactors and electric currents that flow through her hull. For the first time ever, man could take to the skies in a craft heavier-than-air without having to resort to magic.

The power and prestige that she brought to the Holy Empire was immeasurable, but that is not the reason why the launching of a ship was amongst those events included in the defining moments of the Holy Empire. The reason that this launching was included was the fact that the first generation of dreadnought warships – as every ship that came after her was called – were too expensive.

At least four nations went bankrupt and became extinct because of costs associated with building dreadnoughts, and at least two nations were born because of the costs associated with building dreadnoughts.

The investment in these weapons, however, proved to be the right choice, and as the young woman turned her attention toward the next portrait in the series, she could not help but smile. The events portrayed in this portrait were important to her because she knew that had this not happened, chances are, she would not be here today, she would either be a citizen of France or a subject of the Prussian Kaiser, but most importantly for her, had this event not happened, she would not have met the man that she had grown to love far more than she had thought possible.

_'Operation Righteous Dawn,'_ the young woman thought as she fixed the next portrait in the series – among the last five that hang from the Wall of History – her undivided attention.

As with the previous portrait, this painting also had a martial tone. Unlike the previous portrait, however, this one showed an actual military operation, albeit romanticized by the painter to show an event during that battle that might not have even occurred in real life.

'_The Holy Empire returns like the dawn upon the land where her founders were born,'_ the young woman thought. She did not even realize that a smile had blossomed upon her face as her thoughts ran from her, '_While busily fighting a war against the expanding Prussian Empire to her east, the French had to contend with the Britannian invasion to their west._'

In less than four months, the British Isles were again under control of the descendants of William the Conqueror. As for the French Empire, it was the last straw, it disappeared six years later, gobbled up whole by the Prussian Empire.

A sigh escaped from within the young woman though her lips. She turned her attention toward the last portrait in the series, an event that had happened within her lifetime, but before she could focus her attention toward this portrait, the door at the end of the long and narrow hall creaked.

She turned her attention toward it just in time to see a party of men exit the office of the ambassador, and once more, a sigh escaped from within her. She fixed the portrait one look that did not even last for two seconds before she returned her attention toward the door to the office of the official representative of the Golden Throne to the Iberian Peninsula.

She knew that the sooner that she finished her meeting with the Ambassador, the sooner that she could get home. A smile graced her face as she told herself that she could not wait, she had no doubt that the man that she loves was already home waiting for her, and she could not wait to be in his arms. If she was lucky, she could catch him preparing their dinner for the evening, after all, he promised her that he would take care of dinner tonight.

**ONE**

**Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Near Inverness**

**Scotland, British Isles, Holy Empire of Britannia**

**October 16, 1995**

The impressive castle stood alone against the backdrop of darkness, its lights seemingly a beacon for a wanderer lost amidst the giant trees that surrounded the grounds around the citadel.

The castle is the location of the premier magical school in the whole of the British Isles, a school that claimed that they are the best magical school in the whole world, but despite the limited capacity of thought that the winged creature had as it cut through the air toward an open window at the central tower of the castle, even the feathered avian knew that that claim was obsolete.

There was a time when Hogwarts could rightly claim that they are the best school, but today, the school that was housed inside this impressive castle that could not stand without magic could only claim that they are the oldest formal magical school in the world. Almost all of the magical schools around the world had completely overtaken Hogwarts when it comes to quality of education.

The big brown barn owl flapped its wings twice, considerably slowing its speed. The big yellow eyes of the creatures narrowed as it instinctually homed in on a particular source of light within the highest tower of the school. It did not even need to think twice before it darted toward that source of light.

Inside his office, the Headmaster of Hogwarts, Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, hummed slightly to himself as he marked the page on the book that he was reading. At one hundred fourteen years of age, the Headmaster of Hogwarts found that he could not sleep through the night anymore without having read at least a hundred pages of text, and that was exactly what he was doing.

He wondered if he could engage one of his more talented student in an intellectual discussion about the latest theories of transfiguration that seem to straddle muggle physics, but realized that there are very few students in Hogwarts that could actually understand the things that are written in the book that he was reading, most of them muggle-born.

His eyesight – still clear even after more than a century of use – caught the approaching barn owl before it actually entered his office, but he did nothing to stop it because he also caught sight of the letter that the owl held on its clawed toes.

The Headmaster was neither surprised nor worried when the barn owl darted through his open window to drop a letter on the surface of his desk. He was also not surprised or worried when that same barn owl flew through the same window that it had used to enter his office right after it had dropped the letter. It was not unheard of for owls to have instructions against letting the recipient know who the sender was.

Of course, given the position of the Headmaster, it was also possible that this was actually a trap, and because one could not be too careful, the Headmaster actually drew his wand from his left sleeve in order to cast an uncommon detection charm that he was sure few people had even heard of, let alone capable of casting.

The white envelope that the Headmaster was sure contained the letter glowed a faint pink hue for a few moments before the hue turned white, informing the Headmaster that the letter was clean. A soft smile came across the face of the Headmaster as he considered what the reaction of most of his staff would have been should they see him casting a detection charm on his letters, but this same vigilance had saved his life more times than he could care to count. Besides, one could never be too careful.

A sigh escaped through the lips of the Headmaster as he snapped his finger. The white envelope floated from the table before it darted at a relatively slow speed toward the Headmaster who realized that he was already too lazy to actually walk the five feet difference between him and his desk.

The first thing that the Headmaster noticed about the letter was that there was no return address. That in itself was not unusual, the owls that deliver these letters are well aware of where they had came from and if the letter could not be delivered, the owls would just return home. The letter, however, was also devoid of any markings that would have given the Headmaster a clue as to where it came from.

Albus also knew that the letter was prepared without magic. His detection charm had glowed white after he cast it, meaning there was not even the slightest residue of magic in the paper. If this was prepared with magic, then there would have been residue, but the detection charm that he had cast confirmed the absence of that.

'_Curious,'_ the Headmaster thought to himself as he opened the letter. Even the letters that came from the parents of muggle-born students have magical residue, because their letters are routed toward a central location operated by the Ministry.

That the letter came from someone magical was not in doubt, because the letter was delivered by owl, though for the life of him, the Headmaster could not remember a magical acquaintance – or even anyone magical for that matter – who would not use magic in sealing their letter.

The seal on this letter was wax, and upon the red wax was embossed a coat of arms that the Headmaster in his more than one hundred years had never seen before. The stag on the upper right hand corner of the shield, however, caused the Headmaster to momentarily pause. There was a significance in that stag, the Headmaster knew, but for the life of him, he could not figure out the significance.

Shrugging indifferently, however, Albus Dumbledore told himself that it must not be that important if he could not remember it, so instead of focusing his admittedly impressive brainpower to solving that mystery, he opened the envelope containing the letter.

For a brief few moments, the Headmaster actually thought that the envelope would explode on him, never mind the fact that his detection charm had assured him that everything was safe. The man who is widely acknowledged as the most powerful mage alive today actually breathed a sigh of relief when nothing happened after he opened the envelope.

There were two folded white pieces of paper inside the envelope, and the Headmaster need not pull them out to know that whoever had written them, had written them using a modern pen rather than the traditional quill and parchment that the magical world is still using today.

A soft frown appeared across the face of the headmaster at that, when he realized that the person who wrote this letter was actually thumping his nose at the traditions of the magical world. Albus might not agree with many of the traditions of the magical world, but there are those that he does agree with, and it was because in his opinion, things are better off if everyone would follow that tradition.

Parchment and quill are just two of the traditions that the Headmaster followed.

A sigh escaped from within the Headmaster through his lips as he focused his attention upon the letter in front of him. The neat arrangement of the letters – and the controlled way that they were etched upon the surface of the paper – reminded him of a student who had graduated more than a decade ago, but with a start, the Headmaster shook his head as he reminded himself that that student had disappeared from the magical world, and despite repeated attempts from the Headmaster to find them, they had not been seen since.

The Headmaster fought a second sigh that threatened to come out of him through his lips as he thought about his failure to protect that family. In a sense, the Headmaster knew that he was partly at fault for the reason why that family – one of the brightest, richest, and oldest in the magical world – had left the land of their birth, but with a start, the Headmaster reminded himself that right now is not the proper time to be feeling guilty about something.

The same coat of arms that was embossed upon the wax that had sealed the envelope was printed at the top and center of the paper, and once more, the Headmaster forced himself to ignore the features of the shield.

The moment that he saw the first line of the letter, however, he quickly realized what the significance of the stag on the shield was.

He actually had to prevent himself from banging his head at the nearest surface that he could find, preferably, a hard surface. Now that he realized what the stag signifies, he realized that he should have known. The stag was the patronus form of James Potter, after all.

'_Why now, though?' _the Headmaster asked himself. James, Lily, and their son Harry had been missing since 1981, since the day that magic had proven they had fought against the Dark Lord Voldemort – _'Another student that I had failed,'_ the Headmaster thought to himself, '_How different would history be had he not turned out the way that he did?'_ – so the Headmaster was understandable curious as to why James would initiate contact with him, especially considering the fact that the Headmaster had spent a considerable amount in both time and fortune to find the family without success.

Albus mentally shook his head; however, as he told himself that there would be a time to consider that later. Right now, he needed to find out what is the reason that the Potter patriarch had sent this letter, and considering the fact that the letter was sealed with red wax and embossed with the coat-of-arms of an ennobled family – the silver crown at the left hand side of the shield was allowed only on coat of arms of ennobled families – he realized that it might not be to his liking at all.

The chill that ran through the spine of the Headmaster was pointedly ignored as the one hundred fourteen year old focused his attention upon the letters that were written on the surface of the paper.

'_Esteemed Headmaster, Albus Percivial Wulfric Brian Dumbledore_

_Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry_

_I realize that it had been nearly fifteen years since the last time that you and I have talked. I also realized that it had been nearly fifteen years since the last time that you and I had met. I am sure that as you read this letter, you are wondering why I had initiated this contact despite the fact that for the last fifteen years I had shown neither hide nor hair to either you or those that you had sent around the Empire and the world in an attempt to find us'_

The Headmaster fought the urge to grimace at that point. Not even his closest advisors and colleagues are aware that he had been searching for the Potter family. It ranked him that not only was James aware of the search, from the way that the message was written, the elder Potter was probably watching the search as well.

'_This letter, however, was not sent to beg for your forgiveness, Headmaster, not when it is clear to me and my wife that the ones who should be apologizing is you rather than us, after all, it was you who suggested that sniveling traitor of a rat as our Secret-Keeper rather than allowing us to go through with our original plan.'_

Once more, the Headmaster grimaced. The original plan of James and Lily the moment that they had heard the prophecy was to go into hiding under the _fidelius _charm with Sirius Black – James's best friend and godfather to their son – as their Secret-Keeper. Sirius was set to go into hiding as well and the Headmaster was sure that the heir of House Black had a number of bolt holes that he could hide under without resorting to the charm.

The Headmaster, however, managed to convince Lily, then James, to use their other friend, Peter Pettigrew, as Secret-Keeper. It was a good plan, since everyone assumed that Sirius would be the Secret-Keeper and because Peter was the weakest of the four Marauders – the gang that James and Sirius had created during their time at Hogwarts – no one would assume that Peter was the Secret-Keeper. At that time, Albus assumed that there was a spy within the ranks of the Order, but he just could not root out that spy.

Less than a week after the Potter family went into hiding, they were finally able to identify the spy, and he was none other than Peter Pettigrew. The only reason that they were able to identify the rat, however, was because he led Lord Voldemort into the house where the Potter family was in hiding.

Details were sketchy even after more than a decade of trying to find answers, but mostly everyone agreed that the Dark Lord attempted to kill James and Lily, only for the most feared Dark Lord in history to discover that not only were James and Lily not afraid of him, they were somehow prepared. Exactly how is known only to three people – James, Lily, and the Dark Lord – but the results are undeniable, Lord Voldemort was defeated. Some say he was killed, others say he was only banished, whatever the truth was, however, that night, the Blood War ended.

James, Lily, and their one year old son Harry disappeared. Sirius Black, having went into hiding himself as per the original plan, also disappeared. For fifteen years, the Headmaster had attempted to locate them, only for James to up and send this letter.

'_The Potter family had been fortunate, Headmaster, in the years since we had left the land of our birth, and we are now part of the Imperial aristocracy through the good graces of the newly named Prince of Wales and Prince of Scotland. I and my wife had sworn oath to the Prince and it was in his request that I send this letter to you, not to beg for a resumption of our relationship, but as a warning and as a notice to you as Headmaster of Hogwarts.'_

The Headmaster paused at that. Clearly, whatever it is that James – or his liege lord – had wanted to warn Albus about, it had something to do with the school, and because Albus is the Headmaster, that was his business.

'_Imperial Intelligence is worried about the almost exponential growth of extremist separatist in Northern Scotland, and as Prince of Scotland, it is the duty of my liege lord to ensure peace and security within his realms. Toward this end, His Highness, the Prince of Scotland had authorized the deployment of an infantry division – the 22__nd__ Infantry Division currently based in Cornwall – to Scotland.'_

Normally, that would not have been a concern to the Headmaster of Hogwarts. As far as he was concerned, the Prince could redeploy his military as much as he want, but the fact that James had seen fit to warn him – or the Headmaster of Hogwarts – of this deployment meant that Hogwarts would be affected by this deployment – either directly or indirectly.

'_The 22__nd__ Infantry Division would be redeployed to Inverness, but one brigade of the division – specifically 'C' Brigade – would move northward for an exercise. The area chosen for the location of the exercise, Headmaster, is a wooded area located reasonably far away from any major population centers. You know this area as the Forbidden Forest of Hogwarts.'_

Albus fought the urge to slam the letter of James against the nearest hard surface that he could reach. The head of the Potter family had warned him that muggles are coming to his school. Usually, he would not have been worried, as the Headmaster knew that the muggles could not even see the school, but he had a feeling that because of the fact that these muggles serve the Golden Throne, they would see the school.

'_This is happening right now, Headmaster, there is nothing that you could do. Your cooperation in this movement is expected, and His Highness had asked me to remind you of the fact that you and your government had sworn an oath to follow the instructions of the Golden Throne or its authorized representatives. I need not remind you that my liege lord is a representative of the Golden Throne and grandson of the Empress.'_

It was just as the Headmaster had thought, and with an almost violent shake of his head, the Headmaster told himself that there is nothing that he could do about it. James was right, he had sworn an oath, and it was a magical oath, an oath that would not only suck the magic out of him should he disobey it, given his age, it would actually kill him.

The letter of James, however, was not yet finished. With a growing sense of trepidation, Albus returned his attention to the letter, but the news that James was yet to deliver was actually the first good news that the Headmaster has had today – considering that the day had already ended for some people, that was saying something.

'_In a lighter note, Headmaster, my son, Harry James Potter, would be part of this deployment,'_

The Headmaster blinked at that. Had he read that right? As far as the Headmaster was concerned, Harry is only fifteen years old. At that age, he would only be a fifth year student at Hogwarts, about to take his OWL's, and it will only be after that that he would be considered an adult who could actually perform magic outside the school provided that no muggle could witness him performing. Now James is telling him that his son is joining the deployment, and that meant only one thing in the mind of the Headmaster. The boy could not be a soldier already, so what is James playing at?

'_Now fifteen year old, Harry had fought tooth and nail to earn his recommendation for the Imperial Naval Academy in Annapolis, Maryland. My son had graduated first in his class from the Olympia Magical Academy, and his instructors are most impressed by his abilities as a wizard and as a leader. It was not exactly a secret to either me or my wife that he would take this path.'_

Albus grimaced at that. Few people are even aware of the real reason that the Dark Lord Voldemort had chosen to make a visit to the Potter family that fateful Halloween. Most assumed that the target of the Dark Lord was James and Lily, but Albus Dumbledore knew better, mostly because he had heard the prophecy that had sent the Dark Lord to Godric's Hallow – where the Potter Family had gone into hiding – in the first place. The target of the Dark Lord was Harry Potter, and because Albus knew that his former student had not been killed that fateful Halloween, Harry is important.

Toward that end, the Headmaster had gone to extreme lengths to find James and Lily. He had designed courses at Hogwarts that would allow Harry the chance to kill Lord Voldemort, but all that appears to be for naught now, since it was clear that not only is Harry already proficient in magic, he is now under protection by the Golden Throne.

'_Harry and ten of his classmates from the Imperial Naval Academy would accompany the deploying 'C' Brigade of the 22__nd__ Infantry Division. All ten of them are magical, Headmaster, and aside from the fact that they would be observing the exercises of 'C' Brigade, they are also going to be observing classes at Hogwarts as part of the plans of His Highness to curb the growing decline of education within the British Isles.'_

Albus actually managed to look hurt at the statement that James had written on the paper. Although the Headmaster was more than aware of the decline of the quality of Hogwarts education, he was of the opinion that Hogwarts is still the best school in the world. The decline had only served to allow the other schools to catch up – rather than overtake – with the quality of Hogwarts education.

'_Headmaster, once more, your cooperation is expected,_

_Lord James Charles Potter'_

Albus finished reading the letter before he allowed the sigh that he had been holding back to truly escape him. He turned his attention toward the perch that was inside his office, but his familiar had not yet returned, and besides, there was little that Fawkes could do in this matter, the phoenix could not speak with Albus and lately, the bird had been avoiding him altogether.

That muggles are coming to Hogwarts alarmed the Headmaster, but unlike what James had claimed, there was something that the Headmaster could do, though to go down that road would perhaps create more problems for the Headmaster, Hogwarts, and quite possibly the magical world, than it would solve. In any case, the Headmaster is not convinced that they could take on even just a brigade of heavily armed, highly trained muggle soldiers with just fifty active members of the Order of the Phoenix.

The laziness of the Headmaster was completely forgotten as the white-bearded man jumped from where he was seated and toward the fireplace. This far north, it was always cold, and even the fireplace burning continuously could do nothing against that, but that was not the reason why there is a fireplace in the office of the Headmaster – for one thing, the Headmaster is quite proficient with warming charms, and they are more efficient.

The Headmaster grabbed a handful of green powder from a container that rested above the hearth here the fire burned and threw that handful of green powder into the burning fire. The effect was almost instantaneous as the red flames turned green. Moments ago, the fire that burned within the hearth would have scorched the long white beard of the Headmaster, but because the flames had turned green, Albus knew that it would not hurt him.

"Minerva, are you there?" the Headmaster asked as soon as his head was swallowed by the green flames.

"Headmaster," came the reply, "Why are you still up?"

"There is something that I need to discuss with you," the Headmaster replied, "Would you mind stepping through to my office?"

The Deputy Headmistress of Hogwarts did not bother to reply. The Headmaster removed his head from the green flames and quickly took a seat behind his desk. He had barely rested on the soft cushion of his rather impressive looking high-backed chair before the green flames in his fireplace erupted, throwing flames as high as ten feet high into the stone and brick chimney above the flames burned.

A figure stepped out of the towering flames, her expression one that clearly showed that she did not appreciate having to be asked to step into the office of the Headmaster at this late hour. Against her stern expression that promised pain and humiliation for all those who would dare stand up against her, the Headmaster of Hogwarts could only offer a grandfatherly smile.

"Lemon Drop?" the Headmaster asked. It was his usual opening for any conversation that was set in his office, but in the nearly forty years that he had been Headmaster of Hogwarts – and the many years before that since he had become a professor in the school – none had actually taken his offer.

"No, thank you, Headmaster," Minerva McGonagall, Deputy Headmistress of Hogwarts, professor of transfiguration, and one of only two people in the school who could actually stand up against the Headmaster, replied with a slight upturning of her lips, "Is this the reason that you had asked for me at this time in the evening Headmaster?" she asked, though before the Headmaster could reply, she quickly added, "I have an early class tomorrow."

Albus actually fidgeted as his Deputy affixed him with a stare that many students would have not only found intimidating, but downright scary. Albus Dumbledore, however, is the Headmaster of Hogwarts, and while intimidating, Minerva is not only Deputy Headmistress, she was also a student of Albus when she was younger.

"Not quite, Minerva," Albus replied at the same time that he picked a sour candy and propped it into his mouth. He motioned for his deputy to take a seat at the same time that he silently summoned the letter of James Potter to his desk.

Minerva was not impressed with the silent summoning charm of the Headmaster, but that was mostly because she had seen it before and was actually capable of doing the exact same thing that the Headmaster had done. She was also not happy with the fact that the Headmaster had asked for her this late in the evening, but because she had been invited to take her seat that, she followed his instructions and did exactly as she had asked.

"Minerva," Albus began as he set the letter of James before her, "I have received this letter from James Potter this evening."

The look on the face of Minerva instantly changed when she heard the name and she could not get the paper fast enough. Without the Headmaster even telling her, Minerva dove – figuratively, of course – into the letter and read the contents, her brows furrowing as she digested the information in the letter.

Albus actually thanked himself as he watched her. He had the presence of mind to inform her about everything that was written in the letter regarding the affair that saw James and Lily leave the British Isles. The Headmaster of Hogwarts actually shuddered as he asked himself how Minerva would have reacted if she had not known. He knew that it would not be a pretty sight.

Minerva is Head of Gryffindor House, and James, Lily, Sirius, and Peter are all in Gryffindor. Much like the mascot animal of her house, Minerva is a lioness ready to protect her cubs, despite the fact that she is very strict with them.

"This explains why Harry Potter did not appear in the foyer of Hogwarts in 1991, despite the letter that he had been sent," Minerva replied dryly as she pushed the letter back to the Headmaster. She did not even give the old man a chance to say something before she added, "It also explains where James had taken his family following the attack."

Albus had suspected that the Potter family would be at the mainland, truth to be told, but because he had not shared the fact that he had been searching for the Potter's to his Deputy, he thought it best not to reveal that tiny tidbit of information.

"That is not the only reason that I asked for you, Minerva," the Headmaster revealed as he theatrically sighed, "I would have asked for Filius as well, but seeing that he is not here…," he let the thought go unfinished.

Minerva nodded. Filius Flitwick is the resident charms professor and the only other person in Hogwarts aside from Minerva who could stand up against the Headmaster. Unfortunately, the ever-jolly professor had asked to be excused for the evening to visit an old acquaintance that is on the verge of crossing the veil.

"I would advise you to cooperate with their demands, Albus," Minerva replied, surprising the Headmaster, not because of her opinion, but of the fact that she already knew what he was going to ask without him even asking her.

"You truly think that that would be in the best interest of the school and the students, Minerva?" the Headmaster asked, "The international community…"

Minerva interrupted him, "We swore an oath," the Deputy Headmistress reminded her immediate superior. She fixed him a gaze that clearly told him that she is very serious, "You could lose your life should your magic flee your body, Headmaster."

Albus let out a sigh. Of course, Minerva was well aware of the possible consequences a broken magical oath could have on him. Minerva, quite possibly, could suffer the same consequences should _she_ break the magical oath.

"I trust that I would have your backing when I present this to the rest of the staff tomorrow?" Albus asked. He knew that he need not ask, of course, Minerva would have his back, as would the rest of the staff.

The rest of the staff, after all, are also aware of the oath, and even someone who despise muggles like Severus Snape – the resident potions master and a member of the batch that included James and Lily – are aware of the oath. While Severus would complain and harp about, there is truly nothing that he could do since _he _also swore the oath.

"I fear that Severus would be hard to deal with in the coming days," Minerva opined a few moments later. Albus watched as she sighed before she added, "I fear that it would be the students who would be at the receiving end of his wrath."

Albus nodded, "I shall speak with Severus regarding his behavior after the meeting tomorrow," the Headmaster promised his deputy. The Headmaster knew that Minerva was out looking for her Gryffindor students who – more likely than not – are at the brunt of the ire of the potions master, but if the Headmaster was honest, he shared the opinion of Minerva. It was a surprise that Severus had not that many complaint regarding his behavior, but Albus feared that if the muggles would truly come to Hogwarts, then that might change.

"Headmaster," Minerva suddenly said, forcing the Headmaster to return his attention toward his Deputy, a questioning look on his face, "James Potter had mentioned the growing decline of education, what are you going to do about it?"

Albus fidgeted uncomfortably in his seat as this topic was brought up. Minerva had been complaining about the quality of education at Hogwarts for a long time now, but the Headmaster could do little about it not only because of his personal beliefs but also because of the administrators at the Department of Magical Education.

The Headmaster turned his attention toward his Deputy and saw that she was waiting for an answer from him, and with a sigh, the Headmaster replied, "At this moment, there is nothing that I could do about it, Minerva," he said, and before the Deputy Headmistress of Hogwarts could rally against him, the Headmaster quickly added, "We would discuss this as well tomorrow, Minerva."

Minerva looked at the Headmaster, debating with herself whether or not she should tell him that she had seen through the lie that he had given her, but after a few moments, she realized that even if she told him that, nothing would change, and besides, she has an early class tomorrow, so with a nod, she stood from her seat.

Albus watched as his Deputy returned to the fireplace, and once she was gone, he sighed before he returned his attention to the letter that was in front of him. Things are certainly beginning to get interesting, though the Headmaster found himself wishing that it would not be that interesting.

**Aboard **_**HMS Empire Dawn**_**, Approaching Richardsburg Naval Air Station, Inverness**

**Scotland, British Isles, Holy Empire of Britannia**

**October 16, 1995**

The lights of the nearby city had stolen the attention of the young man who stood by the side of the railings at the highest deck of the transport ship. A sigh escaped from his lips as he heard the footsteps behind him, though he did not turn his attention toward the direction where the sound came from because he already knew who was approaching him.

This near to the debarkation point, the soldiers and officers who make up 'C' Brigade of the 22nd Infantry Division are already aboard the trucks that would carry them to the spot where they had been ordered to deploy. This close to the debarkation point, the only ones who are not yet aboard their designated transports are the highest ranking officers of the brigade – who are still in the planning room with the officers of the ship – and the special guests of the brigade for this operation, the ten first year cadets from the Imperial Naval Academy who somehow managed to find their names amongst those slated to be deployed to Northern Scotland.

The presence of the cadets was not unusual for the three thousand soldiers and officers who make up 'C' Brigade. What is unusual is the fact that the cadets that would be accompanying this exercise are naval cadets from Annapolis rather than army cadets from West Point. The fact that there are only ten of them was also considered unusual – usually, an entire class would accompany a brigade for deployment – but was not commented upon by the junior or field officers.

There was a reason why there are ten naval cadets in the deployment roster of 'C' Brigade, and if the commanders of the brigade had not seen fit to inform the rest of the brigade, then that was their prerogative.

The sound that the horn of the ship made tore the young naval cadet who stood at the highest deck of the transport ship out of his reverie. Without him truly meaning it, he turned his attention away from the lights of the city and toward the direction where the sound came from. Even in this dark night, the dark smoke that is the byproduct of a diesel engine was clearly visible as it escaped into the atmosphere through the smokestack.

Harry James Potter, highest ranking naval cadet of the ten cadets that found their names amongst those who are slated for deployment to Northern Scotland, fought the urge to sigh. The lights of the city of Inverness grew larger as the transport ship approached the dock north of it where they would disembark, and the young naval cadet turned his attention toward the sound of the footprints that he heard moments ago.

As Harry had expected, he knew the person who had approached him. Clad in the same dark blue coveralls as Harry, the other person was obviously a naval cadet like Harry for he does not look a day older than fifteen. Unlike Harry, however, he had light brown eyes and his dark brown hair was not nearly as messy as the bird's nest that is the hair of Harry.

The smile on the face of the other cadet could be taken as insubordination, but Harry knew better. Cadet Fourth Class Edward Brooke meant no disrespect to Harry – either as his temporary superior officer or a fellow cadet of the Imperial Naval Academy – it was just that most of the time, the young man is smiling. Like the untidy hair of Harry, the easy smile of Cadet Brooke had landed him in hot water amongst the cadet first class seniors. Unlike most cadets in the Academy, however, Edward is magical.

"All cadets report ready for disembarkation, commander," Edward reported. He did not bother to salute, because that was not needed. Although Harry has been assigned commander of the ten man contingent by virtue of seniority – his cadet number is the lowest because amongst the ten, he was the first go get into the Academy – they are still the same rank. Harry had not been given a temporary rank for this deployment, so he is also cadet fourth class.

Harry nodded, "Acknowledged," he replied. Edward had been assigned as his executive officer for the deployment because he was second senior, the fact that he and Harry are bunkmates and are number four and five – respectively – in their class had nothing to do with how authority was delegated.

"You still do not agree with this assignment, Harry?" Edward asked as he fell in beside his temporary commanding officer – making sure to fall in to the left of Harry, since the right hand side is the position of honor.

Harry paused in his steps – they were on their way to the stairs that would take them to the cavernous hold of the ship where their designated transports are waiting for them – before he turned his attention toward his old friend. With a sigh, he said, "Ours is not the question the wisdom behind the decision of our commanding officers."

Harry was sure that had it been someone who ranked higher than him who had said that, Edward would have stopped asking question. As it was, however, he and Edward are not only the same rank, they had been friends for quite some time now, "You did not answer the question, Harry," he observed.

"Fine," Harry replied as he resumed walking, his executive officer following him. A sigh escaped the lips of Harry before he continued, "Yes, I do not agree with this deployment."

A chuckle escaped from the lips of Edward as he opened the door for his temporary superior, revealing a set of stairs that lead downwards, "You better not let anyone hear you say that," he warned, though from the mirth that colored his tone, it was obvious that he truly does not care.

Harry shook his head, "My objections to this deployment are on record with my liege lord," he replied. It was true that he had met with his liege lord in order to present his opinion, but it was not the deployment that Harry has a problem with, it was the location where the deployment was supposed to happen.

In the humble opinion of Harry, it was better to camp on the _other_ side of the Forbidden Forest. The mission was to hunt for separatist and extremist, and Harry knew that most of those, he could find _inside_ the walls of Hogwarts. It made no sense to him that they would deploy beside the very people that they are supposed to be hunting, and even more, it made no absolute sense to Harry that his father actually sent a letter to the Headmaster informing said Headmaster of not only their imminent arrival, but implied on their mission.

Everything that Harry had been taught since he had entered Annapolis – and since his first year in Olympia Academy – had always said that the element of surprise is very important, but his father – presumably under orders from their liege lord – had thrown away that surprise.

"There must be a reason why we had received instructions to deploy where we were ordered to deploy, Harry," Edward said. He paused for a few moments before he asked in a serious tone, "You've already considered that, haven't you?"

Harry nodded, "Yes," he admitted, "but I cannot figure out what the hidden order is, Edward," he shook his head before he added, "By this time, I should have already figured it out, if I was supposed to figure it out."

"So maybe you are not supposed to figure it out?" Edward suggested. Harry looked at him incredulously, but before the black-haired cadet could say anything, Edward quickly added, "Look, you've always been the brighter between the two of us, have you realized that perhaps you were sent here because you've always been one to dissect your instructions?"

"And that is bad?" Harry asked.

"Not necessarily," Edward replied before Harry could say anything. There was a brief pause before the brown-haired cadet added, "Look, Harry, unlike me, your family is ennobled, so your chances of becoming a staff-rank or even a flag-rank officer is very high, maybe they are trying to teach you to stick to your orders because when it is your turn to give orders and we are at war, your subordinates would have no time to dissect your instructions to them?"

For a few moments, Harry did not say anything, "They could have just told me directly," he commented under his breath.

"What good would that do?" Edward asked, "We both know that that would not work."

For a few moments, the only sound that echoed around the two men came from the sound of their footsteps as they descended the metal stairs. Harry was the first to break the silence with a chuckle as he realized that what his bunkmate was saying is true.

"Which truck do you want?" Harry asked a few moments later, "The first or the second?"

Unlike the soldiers of 'C' Brigade, 22nd Infantry Division, the naval cadets under the command of Harry had been assigned to travel to the deployment area aboard stretched Land Rovers. The soldiers would travel to the deployment area aboard armored personnel carriers, though the highest ranking officers would have staff cars and a few stretched Land Rovers as well.

"I'll take the first truck," Edward replied as he opened the door at the very bottom of the stairwell. Behind the door that the cadet opened, a cavernous interior waited. The cargo hold of the vessel was big enough to carry the men and equipment of an entire infantry brigade – though not necessarily an armored brigade.

"It won't be a race," Harry reminded his executive officer as they stepped into the interior of the cargo hold. The temperature in the cargo hold was several degrees higher than outside of it, but that was because of the fact that the engine of every single vehicle inside the cargo hold was turned on.

Edward smirked toward Harry, "That attitude is the reason why you lost Victoria," he said knowingly.

A sigh escaped through the lips of Harry before he smirked toward his executive officer, "If I had not gracefully bowed out of that competition, my friend, you would not have a girlfriend," he said knowingly.

Edward, however, merely smiled back toward Harry, "Even if you were in that race, my friend, I still would have won," he shook his head before he added, "In a way, I wish you were in the race, that would have made my victory all that much sweeter."

Harry shook his head as he watched his executive officer climb into the first Land Rover that was assigned to them, though before Edward could close the door, Harry quickly shouted toward the direction of his friend, "Your attitude, Ed, makes me wonder exactly what Victoria saw in you."

**17 Clarence Way, London**

**England, British Isles, Holy Empire of Britannia**

**October 16, 1995**

The uniformed servant bowed once toward the general direction of the occupants of the room before he walked backward and retreated out of the meeting room. He had no illusion that whatever it was that was about to be discussed inside the room was a secret, and aside from the fact that he had signed a non-disclosure agreement regarding the things that he may or may not hear in this job, he also knew that if the enemies of the Holy Empire were to suspect that he knew something, they would not hesitate to extract that information from his brain using whatever method that they would find efficient.

Of the three occupants inside the meeting room, it was the sole female who had paid attention – albeit scant – at the uniformed servant as he retreated from the room. She fought the urge to smirk as she noted the intimidated stance of the man, though in hindsight, she realized that she should have seen that coming.

Lily Marie Evans-Potter allowed herself one last look at the door as it was closing before she returned her attention toward the two other people inside the room with her.

She watched in silence as her husband took one of the tea cups that the servant had brought in and a small smile graced the face of Lily as she did so. She was well aware that if someone had told her when she was eleven years old that James Potter would someday be her husband; she would have laughed at the face of whoever that person is and claim that that is impossible. Destiny, however, would not be denied and as soon as James stopped bullying people just because he was bored – and stopped acting like a child in general – Lily fell hard for him. They married less than a year after they graduated from Hogwarts, and from their happy union came two children.

Of those two children, one is currently still studying at Olympia, but the elder one – Harry – is already doing his duty to the Holy Empire, and is actually the reason for this impromptu meeting that their liege lord had called for despite the fact that it was nearing twelve midnight.

Lily felt the hand of her husband over hers, prompting her to turn her attention toward him, a questioning look evident on her face. James smiled at her before he carefully handed her the tea that he was preparing, and against that, Lily could do nothing but smile widely in thanks before she took the cup.

James watched his wife for a few moments before he turned his attention toward the only other person in the room with him, his surprise evident on his face, though his surprise was more the result of the fact that the other person is alone, rather than with his partner.

Appearances could be deceiving, James knew, and as he stared at the man to whom he owe his loyalty to, he could not help but be struck by just how real that is when it comes to this man.

At just over twenty five years of age, he is younger than both James and Lily by a good ten years, but one needs only to look at him once to sense the power that flows within him, a power that has nothing to do with magic, but with his blood.

One of the twelve grandchildren of Empress Elizabeth, Lord High Admiral Duke Sir Alexander Charles York is the eldest York of his generation. That distinction would normally someday see him seated at the Golden Throne, but because Lord Alexander is the son of the third child of the Empress, Lord Alexander could never legally inherit. In a way, however, that knowledge proved more boon than bane, for it was precisely that knowledge that the young lord had used to better himself.

A graduate of Olympia Academy, second in his batch, he entered the Imperial Naval Academy at the age of fifteen and graduated at the head of his class at the age of nineteen. At twenty five, he is in command of one of the four standing fleets of the Holy Empire and is ranked High Admiral, OF-11, the second highest rank in the Holy Empire, and he attained that rank through a combination of politics and actual military contribution – he served with the Home Fleet during the conflict with the Confederate States of the Amazons and with the Colonial Fleet during the Gulf War, distinguishing himself in both regional conflicts. Nowadays, no one would dare question his appointment as commander of the Grand Fleet.

He had also been recently named Prince of Wales and Prince of Scotland, a birthday present from his grandmother who was most pleased with his accomplishments.

"Lord James," Lord Alexander said, loud enough that his voice alone was enough to tear the Viscount of Lisbourne from his reverie and make him turn his full attention toward his liege lord, "Is something the matter?"

"Forgive me, Your Grace," James replied as he politely inclined his head toward the direction of the Duke of New York – the preferred title of Lord Alexander, James knew. He fixed his attention toward the Duke before James continued, "I was surprised that Lady Emma is not with you."

A smile graced the features of Lord Alexander – a smile that Lily was well aware would never fail to make an appearance whenever Lady Emma is mentioned – before he replied, "She sends her regrets, but her illness had progressed to the point that our physician had ordered her confined to bed," the Duke seemed distraught before he added, "I hope I don't catch it."

"Forgive me, Your Grace," Lily spoke, "Why not just sleep in a different bed?"

"Lady Emma and I had been sleeping in the same bed since we were eleven years old, Lady Lily," Lord Alexander replied, his tone amused and devoid of any indication that he had taken offense at the suggestion of Lily, "The four years that I had spent in the Academy was more than enough for us to never want to sleep in different beds ever again," he paused before he sighed theatrically and said, "but entertaining and informative our sleeping arrangements may be, my Lord and Lady, it is not the reason that I had asked for your presence."

Both James and Lily turned serious in response to the words of Lord Alexander. This was the man whom they swore their loyalty to nearly ten years ago. The man that both James and Lily swore they would follow, their liege lord.

"I imagine that Harry is still unhappy with the orders that he had received?" he asked rhetorically, before he turned his attention toward both James and Lily, "And as his parents, I imagine that you are also unhappy with the fact that your son had been sent to Hogwarts?"

The first question, both James and Lily knew, was rhetorical. The objections of Harry to the deployment orders that he had received, after all, was actually in written format and in the hands of Lord Alexander. The second question, however, was not.

Lord Alexander had noted the objections of Harry over the deployment order, but he was yet to ask either James or Lily for their opinion regarding the order. It appears that that day had come.

The silence that descended around the room was deafening, but James soon remedied the situation when he said, "No, Your Grace, we are both not unhappy with the orders that Harry had been given."

"Yet, your use of the negative suggests to me that you have reservations regarding this movement," Lord Alexander said. It was not a question, and though James looked ready to answer, Lord Alexander prevented him from saying anything when he raised his hand and motioned for James to stop, "You are not unhappy with this move because you both know the reason that I had asked Harry to go to that school, my Lord James."

James and Lily nodded, "If only we could have told him, Your Grace, then he would probably be enthusiastic about this order," Lily replied.

For a few moments, the Duke of New York stared at his two subordinates. The look of steel in the eyes of the Duke could unnerve the toughest of men, and both James and Lily knew, the Duke could intimidate even the two of them should he want to, but it was obvious that that is not the goal of the Duke today.

Once more, silence descended across the room, an uncomfortable silence that made James fidget uncomfortably. Lord Alexander caught the action of James and the young Duke smiled in amusement at that, before he shook his head and said, "Lord James, you have my permission to inform your son of the real reason that he and his classmates had been sent to Hogwarts."

"My Lord?" James asked, he blinked, twice, before he continued, "It might not be easy for Harry and his classmates to gain access to the castle, would it not be better if we are to inform them of the reason when you visit at the end of the week?"

Lord Alexander shook his head, "The sooner that they start, the sooner that they would find that accursed object, Lord James," he said. He paused for a few moments before a sigh escaped from his lips and he added, "You were the one who convinced me of the importance of locating this item, my Lord, surely, you know better than anyone how important it is to find it."

For a few moments, James could only stare at his liege lord. He turned his attention toward his wife a few moments later, and she gave him a nod. That was all that James needed, he turned his attention toward Lord Alexander and said, "With your permission, Your Grace, I would send a letter by secure owl post to my son, informing him of the real reason that he had been sent to Hogwarts."

Lord Alexander nodded, "You have my permission, Lord James," he replied formally, "and let us all hope that he finds that item as soon as possible."


	2. Chapter II

**A/N: **I do not own Harry Potter or anything associated with it.

* * *

**TWO**

**Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Near Inverness**

**Scotland, British Isles, Holy Empire of Britannia**

**October 17, 1995**

Albus Dumbledore could not help but sigh as a house-elf brought him his morning tea.

The Headmaster of Hogwarts sat inside the staff room, and arrayed before him was his teaching staff, most of them looking worse for wear as they tried to digest the information that the Headmaster had just delivered to them. Albus recalled with amusement when most of them actually turned their attention toward Minerva as if they wanted her to confirm the thing that the Headmaster had said.

Of course, Minerva nodded, though she did not really say anything, and it amused the Headmaster all the more. Albus was well aware of his reputation as an eccentric and the fact that he constantly says things that most people could barely understand. It stands to reason that the staff would think that he was pulling their leg on this matter, though in private, the Headmaster actually wished that he was pulling the leg of his staff.

Nothing would please him more.

Albus mentally shook his head, however, and forced himself to return to the present. His teaching staff was still in the middle of digesting the information that he had just provided, and as the Headmaster had suspected, he had already pegged the reaction of his colleagues even before this meeting had began.

Seated to the right hand side of the Headmaster, Deputy Headmistress Minerva McGonagall was as silent as the Headmaster, her face showing no outward sign of either alarm or acceptance, though Albus knew that the reason for that cold neutrality was as much as the fact that she was already aware that the muggles and that there is nothing that they could do about it as much as her self control.

On the other side of the Headmaster sat Filius Flitwick, the resident charms master and one of the two people in the school that could actually stand up against the Headmaster. The diminutive professor – the offspring of an unlikely love between humans and goblins – looked positively ecstatic about the thought of meeting muggles, though the Headmaster knew that that mostly had something to do with Filius believing that he could learn a lot from the muggles.

Like the students in his Ravenclaw House, Filius Flitwick is always on the lookout for knowledge, and it would appear that he considers this coming experience to be one, despite the fact that he knew that he is likely going to be at the list of the coming muggle military due to the fact that he has goblin blood running in his veins.

Everyone knew that the muggle government based in mainland Britannia barely tolerates goblins for the reason that the goblins had been the ones to help the French Emperor into the British Isles during the early years of the last century.

The Head of Hufflpuff House, Pomona Sprout, also looked happy with this development. For the life of him, though, Albus could not figure out why Pomona is happy. Sure, she might exemplify the traits of her house – friendly, hard-working, and loyal – but the Headmaster could not see how that would affect the situation right now.

Certainly, Pomona would not be able to acquire new plantings from the coming muggles, they are soldiers after all. Unwilling to risk the ire of his professors, however, Albus had to resist the urge to use a passive legilimancy scan in order to know the surface of the thoughts of the Head of Hufflepuff House.

The jovial attitudes of the two Heads of Houses – and the neutral mood of the other, Minerva McGonagall, Head of Gryffindor – was in sharp contrast to the sour – and outright hostility – mood of the last Head of House.

Albus sighed at that, and reminded himself that this was expected. In fact, the Headmaster knew that if the reaction of the Head of Slytherin was different, he would be very, very worried.

Severus Snape exemplified the qualities of Slytherin House. The youngest potions master in Britain – and in the world when he earned his mastery at the age of twenty – is ambitious and cunning. For all these traits, however, Severus also inherited the one flaw that most members of the House have, a misguided belief that being magicals, they are far superior to the muggles. Even worse, despite being a half-blood himself, Severus was a believer in blood supremacy, so much so that he was a member of the Death Eaters, though he switched sides prior to the demise of the Dark Lord.

It could even be argued that the Dark Lord met his first banishment because of the Head of Slytherin House, but that was a story for a different time, and as the Headmaster reminded himself of that, he once more had to force himself to return to the present.

The staring and silent arguments of his professors had stopped by the time that the Headmaster had gone through the looks on the faces of his four Heads of Houses. The other professors were mostly neutral, though that had more to do with the fact that they had realized that the Headmaster had accepted things as they are. Albus need not to scan their minds to know that the other professors of Hogwarts are thinking that if he found this acceptable, then so would they.

The Headmaster had to fight the urge to shake his head, and he found himself wishing that his professors could have opinions for themselves.

"Headmaster," the impromptu silence that had descended into the room following the announcement of the Headmaster was broken by the silky tone of the Head of Slytherin.

Albus turned his attention toward Severus Snape, a questioning look on his face, even as he wondered exactly how Severus was able to actually make his voice silky. Further thoughts on the matter, however, was quickly put to a halt as the potions master continued, "Surely, you are not going to allow this to continue," and despite the fact that the voice appeared as if it was delivered by a confident man, there was a hint of desperation in it.

Albus truly does not want to drive Severus into a corner, in the figurative sense. In this case, however, the Headmaster felt that he had no choice. Certainly, Minerva would tell him that, and as the Headmaster turned his attention toward his Deputy, he saw her give him a nod before she sneered toward the direction of Severus. Fortunately, the Head of Slytherin was too busy staring at the Headmaster to notice the look that his superior was giving him.

A sigh escaped through the lips of the Headmaster of Hogwarts before he returned his attention toward the Head of Slytherin. The sour look on the face of Severus now has the faintest hint of desperation in it, and it was growing by the second.

The Headmaster wondered what it is about the coming muggle army that had his potions master worried. Surely, Severus was not of the opinion that he would be given to the muggles? In any case, Albus was sure that his potions master had done nothing that would earn him the enmity of the muggles. If anything, Severus actually despise being near them.

"There is nothing that could be done against these instructions, Severus," Albus replied in his grandfatherly voice. He did not even bother to attempt to lace his voice with a compulsion charm because the Headmaster knew that that would not sway his potions master.

Severus blinked, twice, at the statement of the Headmaster. It was clear that he was hoping that the Headmaster would do a quick double-take and take back what he had just said or, barring that, that he had heard the wrong thing. Unfortunately for him, the Headmaster had said exactly what he wanted to say, and nothing more was coming out of the mouth of Albus Dumbledore.

"This is madness, Headmaster!" Severus added a few moments later, his tone an evidence of the fact that he had lost his patience. Albus was actually surprised that the young man had not seen fit to rise to his feet and slam his palms on the surface in front of him.

The Headmaster watched with a neutral – almost passive – expression on his face as the Head of Slytherin turned toward his colleagues and delivered a warning, "The muggles would begin to order us around," he warned them passionately, but unfortunately for him, no one was willing to listen to him.

Severus seem aware of this, himself, and after a few moments of staring at his colleagues – possibly in the hope of eliciting some response from them, though he was unsuccessful in that regard – he returned his attention toward the Headmaster, and said, "Surely, something could be done," he said, and as if a bright idea had entered his head at that moment, he suggested something that would naturally cause everyone in the room to gasp not only in its boldness, but in its sheer stupidity, "We could fight them," he offered.

That was the time that Albus decided that enough was enough. Severus Snape might not have seen fit to stand and slam his palms on the surface in front of him, but Albus Dumbledore was not beyond that.

Mustering his considerable powers around him, Albus jumped to his feet – quite spry for someone his age – and slammed both of his palms in the surface in front of him. The resounding noise caused by the Headmaster's action caused everyone in the room to flinch, with a few of the younger and newer professors actually backing away from the table – and away from the Headmaster – as they felt his innate magic assault them.

"We will do no such thing," the Headmaster said, and though he was not looking at anyone in general when he made the announcement, everyone in the room – including Snape himself – knew who the target was. If there was any doubt as to the identity of that person, however, that soon disappeared when Albus turned his attention toward the young potions master and qualified his statements, and in so doing, managed to name the person to whim his recent words were directed at, "Do you even know what you are suggesting, Severus? It would mean not only the revelation of our world, but also its ruin."

Normally, the Headmaster beginning to tear into him would have silenced the Potions Master, but this time, Severus was not one for backing down. "The fact that they are coming here means that they are already aware of our world, Headmaster," the sour-faced man replied, he still maintained his seat despite the fact that it was obvious that he wants to stand, if only to stop looking up as he met the gaze of the Headmaster, "We need to fight now because sooner or later, they would come in force and put shackles on our necks."

"The muggles that are coming here are muggle soldiers, Severus," Albus replied. Aware of the fact that he nearly lost his temper at his youngest Head of House, the Headmaster was consciously keeping himself in check. A sigh escaped from the Headmaster before he added, "They are trained to kill, trained to fight battles, Severus, and with our numbers, we cannot win against them, not when there are three thousand of them," he shook his head before he answered, "And this is a school."

Apparently, the Potions Master did not consider those facts, though in his defense, he was unaware of the first two facts. It was, however, disturbing that he truly did not care even if Hogwarts was a school, and that any subsequent conflict – like the one that he was pushing to start – was liable to cause casualties amongst the student population.

When Severus next spoke, it was clear that he had been taken aback by the announcements, though it was also clear that he was not one for backing down, "The fortifications…," he tried.

This time, it was Filius who shot down his arguments, "Not even with the wards could we withstand a muggle siege," he replied. Albus turned his attention toward his Charms Professor, the same disbelief that was written on the face of Severus echoed upon his face. It was clear that the Headmaster – while aware of the power behind the muggle war-machine – was of the opinion that the wards of Hogwarts could withstand a siege from the muggles. Filius took great delight in pointing out just how wrong the Headmaster and his bigoted Potions Master was, "Their land-howitzers alone could collapse our wards and the walls of this castle with a few rounds, never mind the batteries that they carry aboard their battleships."

The Headmaster stared at his charms professor and was about to remind him that the heavy magic that permeates the very air around the school would have prevented the muggles from bringing in their heavy equipment, but with a start, the Headmaster realized that that might no longer be applicable. Certainly, those floating ships that the muggles are so fond of building – at the costs of millions, if not billions, of money – have components that are magical. How else could those colossal things fly if not for runes etched inside their steel hulls?

Instead of arguing that the school could withstand a muggle siege, the Headmaster just nodded. By this time, he had also realized that allowing the castle to be besieged would mean untold casualties amongst the students, considering that there are muggle-born and half-blood students amongst the population, and it is likely that those students would support the ones besieging the castle rather than the ones who are defending them.

"I think Severus has to be reminded of the consequences of denying the Golden Throne," Filius said a few moments later. The neutral tone of the professor was a sharp contrast to the message behind the message. There was no doubt that what the professor had just said was a threat, and Severus was smart enough to see that.

The potions master turned his attention toward the diminutive professor – no doubt incentives ready to be hurled – but before the youngest of the four Heads of Houses could say anything, Pomona said, "Death," before she stared at her young colleague who looked ready to take offense and announced, "You took the Oath when you became a professor, Professor Snape, deny the Golden Throne and the servants of the Britannian Empress, and you risk your very life."

Severus looked ready to continue arguing, but a pointed glare from the Headmaster was more than enough to get him to back down. In any case, the potions master realized that what his colleagues are saying was true. He did took the Oath, and with that, defeated, the young potions master retook his seat.

The Headmaster resumed his seat as he willed himself to calm down. After a few moments, he turned toward his Deputy Headmistress and said, "Perhaps having some students who are versed in muggle culture liaise with the muggle military would be called for," he suggested, "Might I look to you, Minerva, to organize a group for this purpose?"

Minerva looked at Albus for a few moments, before she nodded, "I'll start with the muggle-born students, Albus," she replied. For a few moments, she looked as if she wanted to add something, but seemingly thinking better of it, she held her mouth.

The Headmaster, however, spotted her with an open mouthed expression, and from the years that they had been working together, he was easily able to identify the expression. Albus suspected that whatever it was that Minerva was about to tell him, it was something that he would not appreciate, but he also knew that even if Minerva was holding back now, sooner or later, she would be unable to hold it back. With a rising sense of trepidation, Albus asked Minerva, "What is it, Minerva?"

The Deputy Headmistress hesitated for a few moments, but after a while, she gave the Headmaster a nod and asked, "What do you think about incorporating some pureblood and half-blood students in the liaison group?"

Predictably, it was Severus who replied first. The words that came out of his mouth was also something that was expected, "No pureblood would want to be caught in the company of muggles," the potions master said.

Minerva took offense at the statement and was about to reply to that effect, but before she could do so, the Headmaster returned to the fray, "While I think the idea has merits, I am afraid that right now is not the proper time to be experimenting," he said. Minerva also took offense at that statement but again, she was caught off without being able to say anything, "This is the first time that we would be hosting muggles, I think that it would be in the better interest of everyone involved if we are to appoint liaisons who would not be in danger of committing anything that the muggles might take offense at."

Minerva looked ready to argue, but she conceded that the Headmaster was right. With a disappointed and a hesitant look on her face, she gave him a nod, "I'll meet with the students after lunch, Albus," she said. She paused for a few moments before she asked, "If there is nothing else?"

Albus nodded, "There is nothing else," he confirmed, before he turned his attention to the rest of the staff and said, "This could be the beginning of a new era of relations between the magical and the muggle world, and Hogwarts could rightly claim to be the place where it first started," he smiled benignly before he added, "Let us not make any mistakes with this."

**Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Near Inverness**

**Scotland, British Isles, Holy Empire of Britannia**

**October 17, 1995**

Minerva and the students inside her classroom were seated in relative silence even as they pretended to have their full attention toward the direction of their professor. It was rather difficult for them, however, to keep their eyes toward that direction whenever the door to the classroom would open and another student would enter the room, the confusion evident on the face of that student the moment that he or she would see that he or she was not the only one summoned by the strict transfiguration mistress of Hogwarts.

That confusion that the person entering the room felt was reflected on the faces of those who were already inside the room. Still, they kept their mouths shut as they watched in relative silence as the newly arrived student would pick a chair to seat and join the growing class that was waiting.

At first, those inside the room – aside from the Deputy Headmistress, of course, she was the one who summoned them after all – could not discern anything about their companions that would single them out for this impromptu meeting. As far as they are concerned, all three houses are represented in this meeting – the fourth house, Slytherin, was considered by the other three houses as existing only on the edge and barely a member of Hogwarts – but then they slowly realized there common denominator. It also made sense, once one had taken that factor into consideration, why there are no Slytherins in the room with them.

All of the students inside the room were born and raised in the muggle world. They had no idea that magic existed until they were eleven and until they received a visit from a Hogwarts professor, and for many of those now inside the room, the professor that they had been staring at for the past ten minutes was the professor who had visited them.

As if by some unseen signal, Minerva stood from her chair, her action emulated by everyone inside the room who realized that they are about to be told the reason that they had been asked for.

"Sit," Minerva replied in a neutral tone. It was the same tone that she used whenever she is teaching in this very classroom, so none of those gathered in front of her would take offense. When all of the students had resumed their seat, the Deputy Headmistress of Hogwarts allowed herself a second or two in order to study the faces of her audience.

She was well aware that the Slytherins would label this meeting as a gathering of mudbloods and those who are not worthy to study magic, and while she wished that she could correct those stupid notions, she is well aware that the Headmaster would just contradict her. Albus might listen to her, but in some things, the age of the man showed. One could not teach an old puppy new trick, after all.

The Deputy Headmistress is also aware that the Slytherins might label this as a meeting of those who are probably failing in their class, given that some of the students here are amongst those who would need remedial lessons, but that would be an incorrect notion. Minerva turned her head slightly toward her right hand side and allowed a small smile to come across her face.

The reason that this meeting could not be called a meeting of dunce is because of the fact that Hermione Granger is amongst those who are called for today. The girl had single-handedly raised the general average of her class five points since her first exam when she was a first year student five years ago. She is now set to break every academic record that she had not yet already broken, an achievement that was accomplished by a muggle-born student only once before, and that student was Lily Potter.

The pride that Minerva feels for Hermione Granger, however, included the pride that the old Scottish teacher feels as the mentor of the young woman. Hermione is also in her house and that had allowed her the chance to monitor her progress far more closely than she would have had otherwise.

"Tonight, the Headmaster would be making an announcement regarding a number of visitors arriving at Hogwarts and would be staying indefinitely," the Deputy Headmistress said. As she had expected, the students perked up at the announcement. The only time that they have had visitors worth commenting upon was last year when the Triwizard Tournament was held at Hogwarts.

"Our visitors are not like those visitors that the school had hosted before," Minerva replied, instantly commanding all the attention in the room and stopping any mental conversation that might have began amongst those who believed that they could do something like that – fortunately, neither Minerva nor the other professors had found evidence that it could be done. The Deputy Headmistress did note that Hermione kept her attention toward Minerva with a neutral expression.

A soft sigh escaped through the lips of Minerva at that. Hermione is a smart and intelligent girl, but she is so smart and intelligent that she almost consistently fail to connect with her peers. Older students dislike her because more often than not, the questions that those students could not answer are easy for Hermione, while the younger students gravitate toward her in the beginning because of her caring attitude and her willingness to help them, until the older students get to the younger ones and begin spinning tales about Hermione.

It frustrated Minerva to no end, but there was nothing that she could do about it. She could not even advise Hermione for the girl had not come to her, though it was fortunate that Hermione had learned her lessons regarding helping certain students who only come to her when it is time for exams and home works. Minerva only wished that the lesson was as not as painful as it was.

"The visitors of Hogwarts," Minerva continued, "would be muggles," and before the gathered students could murmur amongst themselves, she added, "they are muggle soldiers who had been ordered to go to Hogwarts."

This time, Minerva did allow the murmuring – even the outright conversations – to continue. The students seem to take her silence as permission to begin speaking, and that was exactly what they did, missing the fact that as soon as Minerva had finished speaking, Hermione had raised her hand in an attempt to catch the attention of the professor.

Minerva acknowledged Hermione a second later, and the sixteen year old Gryffindor stood before she asked, "Professor, _Hogwarts, a History_ clearly states that muggles are unable to see the school," she said, "How would they be able to visit the school if they could not even see it?"

'_That's a good question,'_ Minerva thought to herself, '_and one that I, unfortunately, do not have the answer to.'_

"I am afraid that I do not know the answer to that question, Miss Granger," Minerva replied, acknowledging her shortcomings was easier when it was to Hermione. Minerva had learned a long time ago that it was easier to accept the fact that a professor is not an infinite fount of knowledge, and the Deputy Headmistress is also aware that Hermione takes it personally if a professor would pretend that she knows the answer even if she does not.

"I suspect, though," Minerva continued, once more forcing all the students to turn their attention toward her once more before they start speculating. Normally, she would welcome her students speculating about something, because through speculation, they might learn something. Things are hardly normal right now, though, and Minerva does not want to waste time, "that it might have something to do with the Oath that every soldier in the service of the Golden Throne of the Holy Empire."

Hermione perked up at that, and Minerva had no doubt that she is familiar with the Oath, probably having read it somewhere. Then again, Minerva remembered that an uncle of Hermione is in service with the Imperial Navy. The transfiguration professor had seen portraits of the younger brother of the father of Hermione wearing an Imperial Navy uniform when she was at their house.

"Regardless of how they would see the castle," Minerva continued, "The fact remains that they are coming here," she paused for a few moments before she continued, "I doubt that the men who have been appointed to command these men are idiots who have no idea that ordinary muggles could not see Hogwarts, and I do know from the letter that the Headmaster had received that this movement was ordered by the newly appointed Prince of Scotland himself."

Minerva noted that Hermione perked up once more, and this time, it was at the mention of the prince, but the transfiguration professor dismissed it as something of minor importance, she had a far more important task to do right now, and she returned her attention toward the other students, "You had been asked here because all of you have been born and raised in the muggle world," she said, and she frowned before she added, "You know that world, which is something that not many of your pureblood and half-blood schoolmates could claim," she frowned further as she said, "The Headmaster had also seen fit to veto my proposal to have pureblood students here so that they could learn about the muggles," she shook her head at that.

Hermione stared at the Deputy Headmistress for a few moments as the older woman shook her head. She already knew the reason that she and her fellow muggle-born students had been asked for, and she wondered how many others had seen the request that their transfiguration professor was about to make of them.

'_Probably not many of them,'_ the intelligent brown-haired young girl thought to herself. She had long ago made the observation that those born on the other side of the great muggle-magical divide are completely lacking in common sense. Apparently, those who are born on the side of the muggles also begin to lose their ability to think logically the moment that they step through that line, _'I suppose that it is understandable,'_ the young girl thought to herself, '_when you are surrounded by things that defy normal logic, then certainly, you do not use logic anymore'_

Hermione, however, managed to keep her grasp at logic because in the mind of the young woman, although she is in a magical place where things that could not be explained by normal logic are happening every day, there has got to be an explanation, so she file the things that she sees in the hopes that she could someday return to figure them out. It helps that she has an eidetic memory.

Taking all things into consideration, Hermione knew that her professor was about to ask her to assist them in accommodating these muggles. A soft smile came across the face of the intelligent young woman at that.

"The Headmaster had asked that you be appointed as liaisons between the school and these muggles," Minerva said, forcing Hermione back into the present. The small smile on the face of the young woman blossomed into a full blown one as she just heard the confirmation from her professor that what she was thinking was indeed the correct answer.

"However, this does not mean that you can cozy up to them," Minerva warned a few of the young women seated at the back who were probably thinking how romantic it would be to form an illicit relationship between student and soldiers.

Hermione would have banged her head at the surface in front of her for that. These soldiers are professionals; there was no way that they would allow themselves to be led like that, even if the ones who are trying to do the leading are muggle-born students.

"Miss Granger?" Minerva asked, forcing Hermione back to the present once more. She really wish that she could have had words with those two muggle-born third years at the back though, but that would not be good for her record. Hermione turned her attention toward her professor, a questioning look pasted on her face, and Minerva did not even bother with small talk, "Would you accept this request?" she asked.

As with Minerva, there was no hesitation on the part of Hermione. She gave her professor a nod before she replied, "Yes, professor," in the most neutral voice that she could possibly muster. Hermione was not sure if she had succeeded in that regard though, because there was no doubt that at that moment, she felt happy at the thought of meeting someone who has at least a bit of common sense at her school. It would be nice to be able to speak with someone who could logically argue instead of falling back to the age old tactic of claiming that that was how things had always been again.

'**C' Brigade Field Position, a few kilometers south of Inverness**

**Scotland, British Isles, Holy Empire of Britannia**

**October 27, 1995**

Harry snapped a salute the moment that he entered the command vehicle through its rear hatch. The vehicle was resting on the side of the road, other specialist vehicles located to its front and rear, waiting for the instructions from the brigade commander to resume their advance.

Harry was unsure of the reason, but the brigade had been ordered to the side of the road and the brigadier general in command of the brigade had called for his battalion commanders to meet with him at his command vehicle.

It just so happened that Harry was also asked to report in and the young naval cadet walked into the rear of the FV521 Command and Control Vehicle that was the temporary headquarters of the brigade commander just in time to see the Brigadier General brief his battalion commanders. From the way that one of the three colonels was just being handed his tea, Harry was sure that the briefing had just begun.

Brigadier General Winston Arnott, commander of 'C' Brigade, 22nd Infantry Division, had his back turned toward Harry when the young cadet entered the rear of the command vehicle. The Brigadier was watching his aides propped a map of what Harry assumed to be Hogwarts against the wall of the interior with his hands folded across his chest.

He surely gave the impression that he is not a man to be crossed with and as Harry stood there with his right hand stuck in a salute position, he tried to remember the few tidbits of information that he had been given about this man.

A graduate of the Imperial Military Academy at West Point, New York, Winston Arnott was initially trained as an infantryman before transferring to Special Operations where he earned both his parachute device and his Conspicuous Gallantry Cross. He had been appointed commander of 3rd Battalion, 'C' Brigade, 22nd Infantry Division on his thirty fifth birthday, and was bumped up – as it were – to command the brigade two years later. He had been in command for three years now and had proven that he is the right man for the job.

As if to prove that, he had been chosen for this operation. Harry was aware that the commander and the unit that was chosen to go to Hogwarts were hand-picked by the Prince. It spoke of the confidence that Lord Alexander had with the man.

Any further musings on the part of Harry, however, were quickly put to a hold as the Brigadier turned to face him. Harry kept his hand up and himself at full attention, not taking his eyes off the spot that he had been staring at as the Brigadier looked him up and down. After what seemed like a long time to Harry, the Brigadier casually returned the salute of Harry before he motioned for the young man to join the three colonels who were already seated at the bench.

Unfortunately, that bench could only hold three people, forcing Harry to take a position next to the seating battalion commanders and assume a parade rest position while the Brigadier walked next to the map that his aides had propped up. Harry was hardly surprised when the Brigadier did not draw a stick to point at the map, it was a custom that was dying and there truly was no need for it anyway.

"Gentlemen," Brigadier Arnott began, and although he said 'gentlemen', at the moment that the last syllable left his mouth, he turned his peripheral vision toward Harry. Even if it was just his peripheral vision, the general was actually able to give Harry an evil eye that would have made the young cadet fidget around had he not forcibly reminded himself that he is in a briefing being conducted by a superior officer.

Of course, because Harry was too focused on remaining himself impassive, he missed the slight movement on the face of the brigadier. The young cadet had failed to notice that because he did not cringe; his standing in the book of Brigadier General Arnott had gone up one notch. That places him in the first notch.

"This is Hogwarts Castle," the brigadier continued, returning his full attention toward the group rather than just at Harry. "Near as we can figure, there are probably six to seven hundred people inside this castle right now," and with a pointed glare, he quickly added, "And when I see people, I mean living people, we did not count the numerous ghosts, magical portraits, and heaven knows what else that call this place home."

He paused for effect before he glared at his three battalion commanders – and actually missing Harry this time – and said, "This is where our mission is going to be," before he added, "His Highness, the Prince is worried about the alarming and almost exponential growth of dissent and separatists within Scotland, and has tasked this brigade with securing this castle from any and all attempts to wrest it from the control of the Empress."

No one inside the command vehicle – not even the aides of the brigadier or the driver who was seated at the front and pretending that he was not listening – need an explanation for the last words that had left the mouth of their commander. It was no secret to those who are in the know about the magical world that the magical world is only kept in line by the power of the oaths that they had been forced to take. Outright contempt was the order of the day when it comes to the magical world dealing with the non-magical world.

"We would deploy as detailed in this map," the Brigadier continued even as one of his aides handed over smaller copies of the map that hung from the wall to the three colonels who took them without saying anything before poring over them. The fact that three of his four audience was no longer looking – or perhaps even listening – to him did not bother the brigadier at the slightest, he just continued, "1st battalion would deploy close to the edge of the lake, you will have the responsibility of guarding that infiltration point, so I want to see patrols there," the colonel commanding 1st battalion nodded his acknowledgement of the instruction, but Brigadier General Arnott did not even bother to return the nod, "2nd battalion would deploy closest to the gates, should worse come to worse, your men would either be manning the walls or be the first to storm the castle."

The colonel commanding 2nd Battalion did not look happy with his set of instructions, but chose to say nothing. Harry got the distinct impression that the colonel was actually intimidated by the Brigadier, and that was the only thing that Harry needed to see in order to know that this colonel is the newest of the bunch. The colonel who was originally in command of the battalion had been promoted and was posted his own brigade to command, placing this new man in the position. It was painfully obvious that the new colonel was not used to the general and Harry silently wondered if the man would become a hindrance should anything go wrong, and he was in charge of probably the most important aspect of this operation.

Harry returned his attention toward the commander of 'C' Brigade and found himself wondering if that was the plan of Brigadier General Arnott in the first place. The man seems to delight in frightening his subordinates, but he is not the first that Harry had met who does that. It was probably the Brigadier's method of weeding out those that would inevitably fail, and it reminded Harry of his own first day at Annapolis when the senior cadets proceeded to run them through a gauntlet designed to break all but the most willing.

"3rd Battalion would be kept in reserve," Brigadier General Arnott continued, "Should either 1st or 2nd Battalion require assistance, 3rd Battalion would provide that assistance," he paused for a few moments, likely to afford his battalion commanders time to digest their instructions and run it through their heads, before he turned his attention toward Harry and said, "Cadet Leader Potter, you and your cadets are going to have the most unenviable job of all," and the grin that suddenly appeared on the face of the general caused Harry to worry at exactly what the commander was going to make them do.

Harry was aware that the Brigadier General could not order him and his cadets to do a mission on their own. The commanding officer has a wide latitude of orders that he could give to the cadets that are accompanying him and his unit into an operational area, but sending them out on their own is outside of that latitude. The commander _could_ send cadets out with active units to do a live-fire and actual mission, but to do so would require the ascent of not only the cadets themselves – and that was almost always given – but also of the training officer who was standing by back at where the cadets had came from, either Annapolis or West Point.

"Cadet Leader," Brigadier General Arnott continued, and the grin on his face got wider before he finally revealed the mission that he was giving Harry and his classmates, "You are to act as our liaisons with our hosts for the rest of your deployment with us," the general said, before he quickly added, "In addition to that, I expect you to come up with a schedule that would see at least four of your classmates inside that castle at any given time, two in my command staff so that they could learn the things that you had been sent here to learn, and the other four off-duty," he once more gave Harry the evil eye before he said, "I shall be inspecting that work schedule the moment we get to the castle, Cadet Leader."

"Yes, sir," Harry replied, consciously fighting against himself from replying in the traditional navy way of 'Aye, sir'. He had no idea how the brigadier would react to that, and Harry was reliably informed that some general officers – or even just officers – in the Army take offense at that.

"Very well then, Cadet, you are dismissed," Brigadier General Arnott said. It was obvious that the briefing was not yet over, but Harry saluted anyway, and once the salute was returned, he walked briskly out of the command vehicle. Once he was out of the vehicle, Brigadier General Arnott turned toward his battalion commanders and said, "Pile up as much work as you can on their shoulders without really breaking them, gentlemen," before he shook his head and said, "Lord Alexander had picked these ten himself, and although I am not competent enough to know what our liege is thinking, I know that he is expecting great things for these ten, else, he would not have sent them here."

The three colonels nodded, before the meeting descended into a question and answer portion as the commanders debated about contingencies that would be required for this operation.

**Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Near Inverness**

**Scotland, British Isles, Holy Empire of Britannia**

**October 17, 1995**

The school staff stood in front of the gates of Hogwarts with a selected number of students behind them. The gathered group had their collective attention focused toward the direction of the road to the nearest town, Hogsmeade.

A few moments ago, they had received word from the town that a huge number of lights were heading toward the town. Predictably, the occupants of the village had no idea what was happening and thought the worst of things, which was why the letter that the Headmaster had received from them contained a codicil begging the Headmaster for assistance against – the people in the village thought – the monsters that are heading toward them.

It was amusing to see that despite the fact that they live in the magical world, they still fear the unknown, or perhaps it was precisely because of the fact that they live in the magical world that they fear the unknown.

Hermione stood with the rest of the students that had been chosen to liaise with the coming muggles behind the Headmaster and the senior staff. The young muggle-born witch wondered if the professors that now stood in front of them would be willing to take bullets for the students behind them should it prove ugly, but she realized that that was not something that she should be concerned about, and, in any case, that was unfair to the professors.

The first two headlights broke out of the gloom, and Hermione had to admit that the sudden appearance of the two lights surprised her. From the gasps that she heard on both of her sides, she was sure that the other students were surprised as well, and she knew the reason. After all, they had been told that the muggle technology does not work in Hogwarts.

A fundamental truth that Hermione and her fellow muggle-born students had accepted the first time that they stepped into Hogwarts had been broken because those two headlights that are coming toward them was attached to the front of a olive-colored Land Rover.

The murmurings of disbelief of the professors – even Professor McGonagall included – however, told Hermione that not even her favorite professor was aware that the claim that technology and magic does not work is a lie, but before Hermione could comment on that – in her mind, of course, anywhere else would be insubordination – her attention was forced back to the road as two more sets of lights appeared, seemingly out of nowhere.

The first truck pulled up just in front of the gates to the school, with the second and the third just behind it. Before anyone could say anything, the passenger side door of the first truck opened. Hermione stared at the youth that jumped out of the open door and was instantly struck by his green eyes, despite the fact that the thick rimless eyeglasses that he was obstructed her view.

Absently, the young muggle-born witch noted that the young man – and he is very young, quite possible the same age as her – was wearing a camouflage uniform like the ones that she had expected, but unlike the driver of the truck – who had also jumped down from the truck – the uniform was bereft of any rank insignia. Neither did the young man carry a weapon, either in his hands or in his hip holster, unlike the driver who had retrieved a gun from his seat.

For his part, Harry was thoroughly unimpressed by what he had seen. The robes that the witches and wizards in front of him wore was probably the clincher, however, as the young cadet could not imagine wearing something like that. He was reasonably informed that that was the accepted clothes for both witches and wizards in magical Britain, unlike back in the mainland where magicals dress just like non-magicals.

He did briefly wonder about the students who stood behind the line of professors – '_How accommodating of them, they formed their own line, now I wonder if I could find a firing squad for them?'_ Harry thought to himself – but decided that he would worry about them later. Right now, he has a job to do, and with that in mind, he turned his attention toward the oldest – at least, he appeared the oldest to Harry – and asked, "Professor Dumbledore?"

The Headmaster of Hogwarts got over his surprise and gave a nod. He knew that the young man who had asked his name was the son of James and Lily. There was too much in him of his parents – especially James, the young man looked like James – for the lad to be able to deny it.

"Yes, I am Headmaster Dumbledore," Albus replied, he smiled kindly toward Harry, though he was not the slightest bit rebuffed by the fact that Harry maintained a cool expression toward him. The Headmaster did take the silent warning though and decided not to say anything else, especially not about the Potters. He decided to wait until Harry would introduce himself.

For his part, Harry did his best to appear neutral to the Headmaster, but his family history precluded from truly achieving that. In the end, he had to forcibly remind himself that his commanding officer had given him his instructions and that he should follow them. With a barely discernible sigh, Harry returned his attention toward the Headmaster and said, "I am Cadet Fourth Class Harry James Potter, sir," and did his best to ignore the pointed gasps as he continued, "I had been appointed as liaison for the time that 'C' Brigade, 22 Infantry Division would be bivouacked at your grounds.:

The smile on the face of Albus Dumbledore was genuine, but it was not there because he was happy to be hosting three thousand men from the Imperial Army, it was there because he was happy that Harry had finally come to Hogwarts. Now he could begin planning, but first, he has to earn the trust of the boy.

"I am Albus Dumbledore," the Headmaster said, he extended his hand toward Harry and was surprised by the strength of the grip of the younger man. Normally, people would be too grateful for them to even shake his hand even if the Headmaster were to offer, and the few who did had never gripped his hand as tight as this, "Headmaster of Hogwarts School."

Harry nodded, but did not say anything, prompting the Headmaster to continued, "Let me introduce you to my staff," he said, and before Harry could inform the Headmaster that that is best left for the commanding officer of 'C' Brigade, 22nd Infantry Division, the old man had began to list the names of his professors.

A good five minutes later, the Headmaster said, "Allow me then to introduce the students that would be most closely involved to help you during your stay," instead of what Harry had been expecting.

The first student that the Headmaster introduced to Harry was a bushy-haired young woman whose deep chocolate brown eyes betrayed her intelligence. Harry found himself staring at those eyes and he quickly realized that she was staring back at him. The words of the Headmaster, when it was finally said, was barely understood, but Harry hard them nonetheless, "This is Hermione Granger of Gryffindor, she has been appointed as Head Liaison for the duration of your stay," the Headmaster said.


	3. Chapter III

**A/N: **I do not own Harry Potter or anything associated with it.

* * *

**THREE**

**Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Near Inverness**

**Scotland, British Isles, Holy Empire of Britannia**

**October 18, 1995**

Harry neatly folded the piece of paper that he had received from his father into four before he fed it into a shredder that proceeded to turn it into strips. He did not even bother to look at the questioning look that his partner and friend – Cadet Brooke – gave him as he led the other eight cadets who were inside their tent into staring at Harry with a questioning and incredulous expression.

The leader of the ten cadets that were sent to Hogwarts closed his eyes for a few moments as he tried to come up with a mission plan, but Harry quickly realized that he would not be able to accomplish this mission with only the nine cadets that were assigned under him. He knew that he would require the assistance of Brigadier General Arnott, and there is a chance that he might even require the assistance of the staff of Hogwarts, and that gave him scant comfort given how the staff had welcomed the brigade last night.

Harry shook his head to rid himself of those thoughts. He supposed that he should have seen how the teachers would welcome the brigade. After all, as was so aptly pointed out by the Deputy Headmistress during the meet-and-greet that they went through last night, this is a school, not a military camp.

There was, however, a mission to be fulfilled, and Harry had been given the mission by his father, which meant that the operation had come from the Prince of Scotland. His father might have signed the letter, but Harry knew well enough of Imperial politics and the relationship of his parents to the eldest grandson of the Empress to know that the order was endorsed by Lord Alexander.

A sigh escaped from the lips of Harry as he forced himself to return to the present. He turned his gaze toward his classmates, and as he had expected, they are all looking at him with confused expressions on their face that still somehow managed to convey their willingness to accomplish the mission that they had been given. That they had been given a mission was a conclusion that they had come to when they saw Harry shred the paper that he had received.

For a few moments, Harry wondered about the wisdom of informing the cadets of the real purpose of the mission as was advised by his father. Although these nine are classmates from the Academy – and therefore, had survived giving an Oath of Loyalty to the Golden Throne – Harry was still unsure if they should be informed that they are going to search for an object that – at last research – was capable of possessing the body of anyone who would touch it.

Harry knew, however, that his father would not have given that advice if the Potter elders thought that Harry should not take it. Faced with that, Harry knew that he should trust his father and do as he says.

"We have been given direct orders from the Prince of Scotland," Harry began, and as he had expected, ears perked up at the mention of the latest title of Lord Alexander, though Harry did not pause to allow his classmates time to speculate on what was being asked of them, instead, he continued, "We had been asked to search for an object inside the school."

"What kind of object?" Edward asked. He spoke for everyone when he asked that question, Harry knew, because the moment that he closed his mouth, the eight other cadets nodded their agreement with the question.

Unfortunately, that was a question that Harry knew he could not answer with absolute certainty. Not because he was forbidden from doing so, but rather, because he does not know how he should answer that question in the first place. The letter that his father had given him was devoid of any description of the object that they are being asked to look for.

The descriptions as to the capabilities of the object in question was detailed within the letter, as was the name of the object and the suspected history behind it, but his father had admitted that they have no idea exactly what the object that they are looking for is, instead, Lord James had advised that they use their dark magic detectors to find the missing object.

"We do not know," Harry admitted a few moments later. The looks on the faces of his fellow cadets told Harry that they are unimpressed, but before they could say anything, Harry continued, "I suspect that not even those who had given us this mission is aware of the object in question," he said, he fixed his classmates a glare and said, "It is, however, a dark object, and from the information that I had been given, it seem clear to me that it is capable of passive and active possession."

A shrill whistle came from the direction of Edward, forcing Harry and the others to turn their attention toward him. The second highest-ranking cadet amongst the group noticed that everyone was looking at him, so he proceeded to give an explanation for his rather unbecoming conduct, "We do not know what the object that we are being ordered to search for is, yet, we know that it is capable of possession," he said, "We may as well have been ordered to run over the barbed wire while the gunners are firing their machineguns at us."

Harry might not have phased it that way, but his partner was essentially correct. Back at Basic Training, cadets are asked to crawl under barbed wire while soldiers fire machineguns with live bullets over their heads. Ostensibly, it was to familiarize the cadets – and the soldiers because they also go through that in their basic training – to the sound of live bullets whizzing over their heads. Harry suspected that the only reason that it was being done was because the drill instructors love to see the cadets squirm.

"Admittedly, that is rather apt," Harry said a few moments later, and once more, attention was turned toward him. he fixed his classmates a glare before he added, "We, however, had been given these instructions, and they came straight from Lord Alexander, so if any of you have any objections, I suggest you take them up with the Prince."

Harry had not expected any takers, and, indeed, there were no takers. Not everyone inside the tent have parents who have taken fealty oaths with the Prince of Scotland like Harry, but the senior cadet also knew that everyone in the room would dare not countermand instructions from someone as well respected and high ranked as Lord Alexander.

For a few moments, there was silence inside the tent as everyone inside sought to make peace with the instructions that they had been given. Harry was amongst those who are trying to make peace with the order, because while he may have agreed with it in principle and while he may have presented it to his classmates, the truth was, he was not happy with it. As Edward had pointed out – though not directly – this had the markings of a suicide mission if one does not prepare properly for the operation.

"Alright," Edward said, breaking the increasing uncomfortable silence that had started to descend across the tent, he turned toward Harry and asked, "How do you want to do this?"

"We've been trained to spot dark magic using our wands," Harry said, and at the same time that he said that, he wished that he and his classmates could actually detect dark magic without using their focus. It would be easier because Harry did not think that they would not be accosted by professors – or even by Hogwarts students – as they walk along the halls of the castle with their wands out.

For that matter, they actually need to find a way to get _into_ the castle. Harry had seen the orders of 'C' Brigade and Lord Alexander had specifically crafted the order to deny Brigadier General Arnott and his people permission to enter the castle unless in dire emergency – and dire emergency includes the castle being attacked or there is some sort of riot inside.

"The general needs to be informed about this," Nicholas Middleton – one of the younger cadets – said. He turned to look at Harry and said, "I am not sure what the clearance for the mission order is, Harry, but the general has to be informed that we have been given a mission at the least."

Fortunately, Harry had also been given instructions to inform their immediate commanding officer of their mission, "I have been given instructions to inform the general," Harry replied, and from the collective sighs of relief that came from the other cadets, Harry could tell that it was important for them that the brigadier be informed. Harry, however, could not figure out why the cadets are adamant on that.

He was about to ask them when the flap to their tent opened and an officer – several years older than Harry and his cadets – entered the tent. Almost instantly, Harry and his classmates snapped to attention as they faced the newly arrived officer.

"Cadet Fourth Class Potter," the unnamed lieutenant said, "You are being summoned to the headquarters of Brigadier General Arnott,"

Harry nodded, and with a shrug, the lieutenant left the tent. It was clear that he had been given instructions not to escort Harry to the command headquarters, but whether or not it was another test on the part of the brigadier, Harry does not know.

"It would appear that our commander had received his own set of instructions," Edward commented under his breath a few moments after the lieutenant had left the tent. He turned his attention toward Harry and asked, "Are you willing to take a bet?"

Harry smiled before he shook his head, "No bet," he replied, before a frown came across his face and his voice took a scolding tone, "And you should stop being a betting man, Edward, they frown at that in active service, at least, amongst the officers."

Edward merely shook his head. He refused to say anything as he joined his other classmates in watching Harry as he fixed his cover, but when Harry was about to leave the tent, Edward quickly added, "Ask the general about the duty roster when you're with him, Harry, I would hate to have come up with that when we really would not be using it,"

Harry smiled but did not deign to reply to the words of his partner. Harry had assigned Edward to come up with the duty roster that Brigadier General Arnott had demanded of him when he first met the man. Harry knew that Edward had come up with a genius division of responsibilities, but with the mission that they had been assigned, there is a chance that that task would prove to be an exercise in futility. If the cadets are going to be asked to search for something inside the castle, then there is a chance that the brigadier general would not even second the cadets to his staff as he had told Harry.

The glare of the sun surprised Harry the moment that he stepped out of the tent, but it was no worse than the glare back at Annapolis so after a few moments – moments that his eyes took to acclimate himself – he could ignore the glare and focus his attention on the rest of the camp.

Soldiers are milling in almost every direction that Harry could see. Most appear to be off-duty, the way that they are standing, but there are a few who appear to be on-duty, keeping their eyes straight toward the forest that surrounded the castle. A few were even looking _at _the castle.

Almost overnight, a tent city had sprung up on the grounds of Hogwarts as the soldiers of 'C' Brigade, 22nd Infantry Division settled in for what could be their home for the next few days up to the next few months. Ordered row upon row of ten man tents were arranged in a chess-board fashion with common areas in between where rifles and other stuff that could not be brought into the tent would be stored.

Soldiers busily set up interdiction zones along the perimeter of the camp – machinegun posts every ten meters and a firing trench inside the perimeter marked by barbed wire – while others mingle at the motor pool, lending a hand to the mechanics who apparently had stayed up overnight in order to fix the trucks and armored personnel carriers of the brigade.

'C' Brigade, 22nd Infantry Division is a motorized infantry brigade rather than a mechanized infantry brigade, so the brigade do not carry infantry fighting vehicles in any of its three infantry battalions. Most of the soldiers assigned to the brigade travel using open air six-by-six heavy trucks, and a few lucky others get armored personnel carriers.

The brigade headquarters of Brigadier General Arnott was set up behind the motor pool area, equally distant from the battalion headquarters of the three battalions under his command. As Harry had expected, the brigadier general has set up his own tent, but it would appear that the command vehicle of the general still serves as the headquarters of the brigade.

"Sir, Cadet Fourth Class Potter, reporting as ordered, sir," Harry said, saluting as he entered the rear cab of the command vehicle of the general where the sentry on duty assured him the general would be.

Brigadier General Arnott was in the middle of shaving his facial hair when Harry entered the cab. The general still has shaving cream over half of his face and had a razor on his right hand when he turned toward Harry, but he acknowledged the young cadet with a nod that made Harry lower his hand before the general returned to finish shaving.

Brigadier General Arnott, however, was not one to waste time, and though he returned his attention to the mirror to deal with his beard, he asked, "I take it that you had received new instructions from Lord Alexander, cadet?"

"Yes sir," Harry replied, not even bothering to nod. The general was not looking at him so there was no point in doing that, and besides, nodding is not the generally acceptable response when asked a direct question by a superior officer. Harry had to admit that he wanted to ask the general if he had also received instructions regarding the mission that Harry had received but thought better of it.

For a few moments, the general did not say anything as he was focused on his shaving. Once he was done with that ritual, however, he washed off the cream from his face and turned his attention toward Harry.

"I've also received new instructions from Lord Alexander," the general said, he motioned toward a make-shift stove where a fire was burning, so Harry assumed that the general had gotten rid of the paper with the orders through that method. "I am unhappy with the prospect of being bait, but I understand the reasoning behind the logic of my liege lord," he shook his head before he added, "In any case, it has not yet been proven without doubt that we would just be decoys in this exercise."

A sigh escaped from the lips of the general before he asked, "Have you come up with any working method that would allow you to search for this item?"

"We had been trained to look for dark items in Olympia, sir," Harry replied, "all ten of us came from Olympia Academy sir, so we could search for the item using our focus, but at the moment, our problem is how to gain access to the castle."

Brigadier General Arnott nodded. He accepted a cup of coffee from his aide – giving the man a nod of thanks – before he returned his attention toward Harry, "You and your cadets are our liaisons to the school, that should give you enough reason to be inside the castle," he paused once more before he asked, "I take it that your search method could arouse suspicion on the part of the locals?"

"Yes, sir," Harry replied, he removed his wand from his side holster and presented it to the commander of 'C' Brigade, "This is a typical focus, general, and when we are searching for this item, the tip of it," – and here, Harry touched the tip of the wand – "would be glowing, I do not imagine that the natives would not accost us when they see this."

Brigadier General Arnott looked thoughtful for a few moments, and Harry could not do anything but stare at his superior officer. Finally, after a few moments, the general said, "My briefings regarding the Headmaster pegged him as an unknown," he said, he stared at Harry and said, "Your own parents, Cadet, are unsure of where to place the Headmaster in our Battle Order, so I ask, do you think it is possible that the Headmaster could be trusted to assist in this matter?"

Harry thought for an answer to that question for a long time. The general seemed content to wait for the assessment of Harry and did not interrupt the train of thought of the younger man. After a few minutes, Harry finally said, "My parents are of the opinion that the Headmaster is a good man willing to do anything to defeat Voldemort," and at the blank look on the face of the general, Harry elaborated, "He was the last dark lord to scourge the magical world, sir, and he was the reason why my parents fled to the mainland, he tried to kill us all when I was one."

Brigadier General Arnott did not look distraught at the mention of the assassination attempt, unlike most of the people who had been informed. Those people are often shocked that a man would try to kill a baby, but then again, Brigadier General Arnott is an experienced soldier, and Harry was happy that the commander chose not to make a big deal of the assassination attempt.

"As I was saying, sir, the Headmaster is willing to do anything to defeat Voldemort, and whatever this thing that we had been asked to look for, my parents are sure that it has something to do with this dark lord," Harry said. He thought about informing the commander of 'C' Brigade about the fact that his parents had actually killed the physical body of the Dark Lord during the assassination attempt, but realized that that would lead to more questions that Harry is unsure if he could answer, so he decided against informing the general.

Brigadier General Arnott does not need to know about those facts, anyway, because Harry knew that if Lord Alexander had thought that the commander of 'C' Brigade needs to know, the Prince would have informed the man himself.

"That being the case, Cadet, you are telling me that the Headmaster is going to assist you in this mission?" Brigadier General Arnott asked a few moments later. He looked thoughtful for a few moments before he added, "I would imagine that the operation would be easier if the Headmaster would be willing to assist."

Harry shook his head, "No doubt it would be easier, sir," Harry replied, "but I do not think that the Headmaster would see the same thing as we would in regard to this operation," he paused for a few moments before he explained, "Sir, the Headmaster is utterly convinced that he is the only one who is competent enough and intelligent enough to possess certain bits of knowledge, and we know that this item, or rather, the knowledge of how to create this item, are amongst those that the Headmaster had purposefully kept hidden from the rest of the magical world."

"You are saying that he would impede your operation because he does not think that you should know that this item exists, is that it?" Brigadier Arnott asked, and in response to the nod of Harry, he continued, "Is this item a matter of national security?"

The seemingly innocent question of the Brigadier had strings attached, Harry knew, but he could not blame the general. Harry knew that if the item in question is a matter of national security for the Holy Empire, the general would take that as a green light for his men to storm the castle and do the searching themselves, but that was precisely what Lord Alexander had wanted to avoid when he had Lord James sent Harry the letter. Although it was unstated in the instructions itself, Harry can read through the lines.

The young cadet could also tell the reason why the Prince was careful in revealing the search. If the Dark Lord were to become aware that there are those who are actively searching for his anchors, then the man – if he were still one – would be placed on alert. It does not take a genius to see that the first thing that the Dark Lord would do would be to safeguard his anchors, and despite the fact that Imperial Intelligence is the best in the world, not even they could come up with the locations of these anchors, they could not even come up with a solid number.

"His Highness does not seem to think so, Sir," Harry replied, and seeing the disappointed look on the face of his commanding officer, Harry quickly added, "If it was, sir, then there would be more of us here."

Brigadier General Arnott conceded that point by politely inclining his head toward the direction of Harry. "There is that," he conceded. He seemed to think about something before a sigh escaped from his lips, "I guess that there is nothing that could be done for our part, Cadet," he shook his head and added, "My instructions are from the prince, we are not to move into the school at a whim and could only do so if there is a clear danger."

Harry nodded, "It would take some time sir, but I believe we could find this item in question," he replied.

"Good," Brigadier General Arnott said. He paused for a few moments before he pulled a chair and he sat down. He was already seated before he fixed Harry a look and asked, "And where is that duty roster that I asked you to come up with, Cadet? Just because you have an operation does not excuse you from the fact that you are cadets in your summer tour."

Harry fought the urge to sigh at that. It would appear that the commander of 'C' Brigade was not going to cut them some slack because of the mission, but though unexpected, Harry is sure that he and his classmates would have no problem with it.

**Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Near Inverness**

**Scotland, British Isles, Holy Empire of Britannia**

**October 18, 1995**

Hermione fought the urge to grimace at the noise waves that reached his ear. She also fought the urge to stand up and pummel the young red-haired girl that was currently disparaging an unnamed 'bushy-haired, beaver, older student' into the nearest wall.

A sigh escaped from her lips as she forced herself to calm down and turn all of her attention toward her half-eaten breakfast, but she only needed to look at it once to decide that she was done, she might as well get ready for classes, especially considering that her first class for today was potions, and there was no way that Severus Snape was going to cut her some slack.

Hermione pushed herself away from the table and took to her feet, ignoring the looks that came from her two other roommates who noted that the young woman had barely touched her breakfast. The young brown-haired witch then proceeded to close her ears as she walked toward the exit to the Great Hall, an action that was required because she was not in the mood to listen to gossip, especially considering that she knew that the gossip would be about her again.

Last night's meeting with the muggle military had thrown Hermione into the center stage of gossip once more, especially when it became clear to the pureblood students who were not invited that Hermione had met with Harry James Potter. Personally, Hermione does not see any reason for the hype that surrounded the boy. Sure, the Potter heir was handsome in a childish and roguish kind of way, and he seem intelligent as well, if his position was to be of any indication, but she personally does not see any reason for the young girls of Hogwarts to practically throw their knickers at him, even if they are yet to see the young man because instead of entering the school, he went and joined his fellow soldiers at the grounds.

That evening, right after the meet-and-greet, Hermione returned to her dorm and was informed by her roommates that some of their fellow Gryffindor girls are actually angry at Hermione right now because of Harry Potter. She did not think it unfair that the girls are angry at him because she met their crush when they did not, quite simply, Hermione had stopped thinking on those terms since she was nearly killed by a troll her first year.

Since that Halloween evening when she the only thing that saved her was an accidental burst of magic that made a hole the size of a muggle soccer ball on the body of the troll, Hermione had played her cards close to her chest. She never stood out – at least, not as much as she could help, because being muggle-born and being the top student was a sure way to make herself stand out – and had very few friends, none of whom could expect an invite to her home in Crawley.

Her circle of friends also lacks any male students, despite the fact that it was unique in Hogwarts because it included members of other houses. It was quite understandable given how it is this same circle that Hermione study with and because no male student wants to study with them – or study at all, come to think about it – no boy had ever ingrained himself in the social circle of Hermione, a fact that everyone became aware of last year when Hermione attended the ball – rather than go home – without a partner.

'_It just seem inconceivable to me that I am expected to find a future partner amongst the male population of Hogwarts,'_ Hermione thought to herself as she walked past the point counter – as usual, Slytherin was leading, while Gryffindor was behind – that is used to mark the number of house points, '_If the students here are the cream of the crop, I shudder to think of the students at the other schools,'_ and with that, she shook her head as she tried to think of any logic behind the outdated notion of some of the pureblood girls that they could get Harry Potter a marriage contract.

'_Not even a day here, and he is already getting this much attention,'_ Hermione thought to herself as she stepped onto the first step in the grand staircase of Hogwarts, only to pass by a group of four sixth year Ravenclaw girls who appear to be comparing notes. Hermione would have dismissed it as comparing homework had she not espied a red title on one of the papers that the girls was holding, '_Marriage Contract,'_ Hermione thought to herself, '_I suppose that even the so-called smart people are jumping the bandwagon, they do seem to be more excited than usual, though.'_

Deciding that she needed to know more about Harry Potter – and realizing that there really was no need for her to prepare for potions class since she is as prepared as she could be, anyway – Hermione decided to make a beeline for the library. If there was anything new that she could find, she was prepared to bet that she would find it in the library rather than from the mouths of her obviously besotted classmates.

Further thoughts on her mind, however, were interrupted when Hermione finally stepped onto the second floor, and nearly fell down because she hit a wall of flesh that, while not as hard as iron, was still harder than usual.

An arm quickly shot out and grabbed hers, preventing her from taking a spill and hurting herself. Hermione could feel the warmth of that hand as it touched her naked hand, and for a few moments, that was all that she could think about that she actually failed to even raise her head and confirm who it was that held her hand and had prevented her from taking a spill.

'_It's his fault anyway,'_ the subconscious of Hermione thought to herself, '_If he had not blocked me, I would not be in this situation,'_ though at the same time that she said that to herself, another part of her chided her for not paying attention to her surroundings, a lesson that she had learned just last year when she was hit by a curse fired by a still-unknown party that caused her front teeth to grow larger and larger until she sought assistance at the Hospital Wing.

"Are you alright?" a voice that Hermione had never heard before asked as the hand that held her pulled her – gently and strongly at the same time – back into safe ground. The fact that Hermione had not heard the voice before had her curious as to who this person is even if she already knew that it was one of the newcomers. She turned her gaze up – she was taller than him by a good four or five inch – and she blinked as she found herself staring at the pair of greenest eyes that she had ever seen.

'_Harry James Potter,'_ Hermione thought to herself, '_The very man that I am heading to the library to study, somehow magically appears in front of me.'_

"I…I'm fine," Hermione said as she gently removed her hand from his. He looked amused as she did so, but whether or not the amusement written on his face had something to do with the actions of Hermione or the fact that the Ravencalaw students that Hermione had passed had suddenly turned toward them with envious and angry look on their eyes, Hermione would not know, because she was not even aware that the upper year students that she had passed had taken to staring at her back with angry eyes.

"That's good," Harry replied as she subtly moved to the side. Although it was a subtle move, the subconscious of Hermione recognized the fact that he had given her a chance to bolt for it, and her subconscious – the one that implored her not to get involved with this man – urged her strongly to run. His next words, however, tore Hermione out of his indecision and forced her to stay, "You look as if you're in a hurry," Harry commented.

Hermione snapped her head toward the direction of Harry – her eyes had somehow found the floor the moment that she had replied to his first question – and an intense color flashed behind them. Harry merely stared at her, un-intimidated by the flash of her eyes, and she realized this. With a stutter, she apologized, "I…I'm sorry," Hermione began.

Harry smiled as he waved away the apology, "Don't," he replied, "It was my fault anyway, I was in your way and you nearly fell down the stairs, and as if that was not enough I had the gall to ask you what you are thinking about," the smile on his face broadened before he added, "My teachers would be sorely disappointed that I had forgotten my manners," he sighed theatrically.

Despite herself, Hermione smiled in amusement. She realized that she was not getting any of the hostile auras that is used to receiving from majority of the Hogwarts population, and from someone like Harry Potter too. Somehow, this made her happy, despite the fact that she does not know why.

"You were there last night, weren't you?" Harry asked, and even though he phased it as a question, it was obvious that he was already aware what the answer would be.

"Hermione Jean Granger," Hermione replied as she unconsciously extended her right hand toward Harry, completely forgetting the fact that after the so-called pure of blood students had refused to shake her hand whenever he would extend it toward them, she had promised herself that she would never extend her hand toward another magical again.

The only reaction that Harry had, however, when Hermione extended her hand toward him, was to smile at her before he accepted the offered hand, "Harry James Potter, Cadet Fourth Class, Imperial Naval Academy," he replied, feeling extremely sure that there would have been no need for him to reintroduce himself given that it was obvious that Hermione was aware of his identity. Still, she had introduced herself, so it was only proper for Harry to follow suit.

The handshake that was exchanged between Harry and Hermione was firm, but friendly. There was none of the implied threats that Hermione was used to getting from her classmates or the hopes of patronage from those that shake the hands of Harry whenever he is forced to attend a formal party back at home. It was a refreshing handshake for the two of them, despite the fact that subconsciously, both knew that this handshake could – and would – spell trouble for both of them.

As if to remind the two of them of this fact, at almost the exact moment that their hands touched, there was the sound of a notebook hitting the floor. Both Harry and Hermione turned their attention toward the source of the sound and saw the elder Ravenclaw students that Hermione had passed on her way up. The look of shock on their faces was obvious, but neither Harry nor Hermione was in any mood to inquire as to the reason behind their socked looks, not when both of them already suspect the reason.

"I was on my way to the Headmaster's Office to discuss a matter of some importance with him," Harry said as he turned his attention away from the shocked Ravenclaw students and back toward Hermione. There was a smile on his face as he asked, "Perhaps you would care to accompany me? After all, I have no idea where the office is."

Hermione also had no idea where the office is, seeing that she had never had a reason to look for that particular office before. This was reflected in the look that she gave Harry in response to his suggestion, but before she was able to reply to his suggestion verbally, she saw the look that he was giving her, and she realized that the invitation was for more than the Headmaster's Office.

Hermione made a split second decision then and there and with a smile, she nodded, "I would be more than welcome to accompany you, Mr. Potter," she said. Harry looked ready to protest with her use of his name, but before he could say anything, she cut him off, "After all, it is my job to make sure that you and your stay here be as comfortable as possible."

"Thank you, Ms. Granger," Harry replied at the same time that his peripheral vision took one last note at the stunned elder students. The naval cadet actually found himself wondering if his hostess for the day was capable of firing wand-less hexes, because the elder Ravens appear as if they had been hit with stunners.

With a mental shrug to himself, Harry decided that he does not care. He had watched the interaction of Hermione with her upperclassmen – or rather, he had watched the lack of interaction between Hermione and her upperclassmen – as she climbed the stairs to the second floor where he had been waiting. If pushed, Harry would be forced to admit that he did block the path of Hermione, not because he was being intentional cruel, but because there was something about the young witch that made Harry do it.

Trained in subtle magic arts, Harry was still unable to realize that the reason that he found the young Hermione Granger interesting was because his magic was singing to hers, and her magic was replying in kind.

Hermione stood away from Harry, her face turned toward him, and despite the fact that she looked irritated, a small amused smile was playing at her face. Harry supposed that the young witch had found the reaction of her upperclassmen amusing, but from the irritated look at her face – a look that Harry was sure was not intended for him, for if it was intended for him, he was sure that the young lady would have started complaining already, she looked the kind, just like his younger sister – Harry was able to conclude that the feelings on the face of Hermione that appeared there in response to the actions of her upperclassmen was more contempt than amused.

That placed Harry on the spot and he briefly wondered exactly what it was that the older students had done to Hermione to earn them the ire of the young woman – '_Obviously, it was something major, I do not think Hermione is the kind to hold grudges despite the fact that I've only met her,'_ Harry thought – but decided that while he really wants to know, the only way that he could know is if he would ask Hermione, and right now, he knew that even if he asked directly, the young witch would not say anything, and that is her prerogative.

"You know," Hermione said a few moments later, forcing Harry away from his reverie and back into the present. He turned his attention – his full attention – toward Hermione and watched her beautiful face as she smiled apologetically and said, "I really do not know where the office of the Headmaster is,"

"I got that impression a while ago, Miss Granger," Harry replied, "but…"

Hermione cut him off once more, "Please call me Hermione," she requested, "We're the same age and it doesn't feel right," she paused and looked at Harry with a serious expression that quickly melted into a questioning expression before she asked, "We are the same age, right?"

"As far as I know, yes," Harry replied with a smile, "I just turned fifteen this past July."

"Oh," Hermione said, she sounded disappointed so Harry took that to mean that she is either younger or older. Given that she is a woman, however, Harry suspected that it was the latter, but before Harry could further speculate, Hermione answered his unasked question, "I'm older than you," she said.

"But not by much, I am guessing," Harry replied, incorrectly assuming that Hermione was going to take offense of that fact, "Hogwarts accept students that turn eleven on the first of September right, and I know that you're on your fifth year."

"I'm sixteen," Hermione replied, before she paused – in everything including her walking, forcing Harry to halt beside her – and looked deep in thought before she turned her full attention toward Harry and asked, "If you're fifteen, how come you're already in the Naval Academy? How about your magical education?"

Harry smiled, "In the mainland, formal magical education begins at seven, informal starts earlier," he shook his head before he added, "I was three when I first started pre-school magical, though that was more playtime and naptime than real studying, the basics that I had learned there – as did most others – form the basis of my further magical education," he paused once more before he added, "I'm not sure if you've heard of it, but I studied at Olympia Academy, Magical Division for both my primary and secondary education."

The eyes of Hermione widened at the mention of the school. Granted, she was unaware that Olympia Academy had a magical division. Despite the fact that she was born and still resides in the British Isles, Hermione was aware of the fame of Olympia Academy. It is the most prestigious school in the whole of the Holy Empire, if not the world. It was also the only school whose graduates are assured of a position no matter where they go, and as if to advertise that fact, twenty six of the last thirty Imperial Prime Ministers are graduates of Olympia.

"You could have joined the government…," Hermione began.

Harry smiled as he motioned for them to resume walking. Stunned by the revelation, Hermione did not move right away, prompting Harry to gently grab her hand and gently assist her in resuming their walk. The stunned Hermione allowed Harry to lead her without any protest, whereas anyone else who had dared would probably had been lying at the floor by now because of any hex that Hermione could send toward them.

"I could have," Harry admitted a few moments later, politely inclining her head toward Hermione as he did so. He smiled as he saw Hermione focus her attention toward him, "but the Academy is almost a matter of course for me."

That statement caused a confused look to appear on the face of Hermione, but before she could ask her question, Harry continued, "I was born in the British Isles, Miss Granger, but I grew up in the mainland because…," he paused for a few moments, before he added with a pained smile, "I am sure you know the reason why my family left this fair isles."

Hermione nodded, "not by much, but I know the basics," she replied. There was an uncomfortable silence for a few moments as Hermione found herself analyzing her next words.

The uncomfortable silence, however, did not last long because Harry broke it, "My father gave oath to the then Duke of New York," Harry continued, "The Potter's became vassals to the York Family, the side of the Archduke of Belleview."

'_A powerful patron,'_ Hermione thought to herself. The young witch was aware that the family line that Harry was referring to was that of Archduke Stephen Richard of Bellleview, younger son of the current Empress of Britannia.

"Being vassals to a martial family, it was almost a matter of course for me to join the military," Harry continued, forcing Hermione out of her reverie as she was forced to return her attention toward him, "It was either West Point or Annapolis, though if I had wanted to, I could have just gone through reserve officer training course," Harry shook his head and a rueful smile came across his face as he continued, "My Lord Alexander, however, had allies in the Imperial Congress and he used those allies to secure an appointment for me to Annapolis, so, here I am."

Hermione nodded. Imperial politicking was not her area of expertise, but she is at least aware enough of the non-magical world that she was not completely lost with what Harry had said. She returned her attention toward Harry as they entered a covered walkway that she knew would lead them to the lake, "Why Annapolis?" she asked.

Harry smiled, "My Lord was a product of Annapolis," he replied, and seeing the confused expression on the face of his companion, Harry continued, "Lord Alexander is not really my lord, you understand, I am only fifteen and I have to be at least twenty one before I could give an Oath of Affiliation, but I am the son and the heir of my parents, and Lord Alexander is their liege."

Both Harry and Hermione had to squint their eyes for a few moments as the rays of the sun shining at full blast caught them unprepared. It only took them a few moments to adjust to the glare, however, and when they came to, Harry found himself staring at the lake of Hogwarts. A smile – one not unnoticed by Hermione – came across the face of Harry and he said, "It's beautiful."

Hermione found herself nodding in agreement, "I never really noticed," she admitted in disappointment, "but you're right, it is beautiful."

"I imagine that you and your friends have many picnics here," Harry commented off-handedly, "Back in Olympia, me and my friends used to camp around the lake, its an artificial lake, mind you, so it can't be as beautiful as this, but if we wanted a real lake, there are plenty outside school grounds," the smile on his face broadened before he said, "And the Sound, how could I forget the Sound? It is easily the most beautiful body of water that I had ever seen."

'_Puget Sound,'_ Hermione thought to herself as she realized that that must be what Harry was talking about, but the words that came out of her mouth next had nothing to do with that body of water, "I have no close friends here, Mr. Potter," she replied in an almost formal manner that alerted Harry that the girl was about to close her door on the inroads that he had been doing to earn her friendship.

"Call me Harry," Harry replied almost immediately, aware that that was a tactic to stop Hermione from closing herself from him. It helped that Harry wanted Hermione to call him by his first name.

"Harry," Hermione replied, as if she was testing the name.

Harry smiled and nodded at the sound that came from the mouth of Hermione, but the last words that had came out of her mouth before she decided to call him by his first name demanded some clarification, and Harry ploughed on, "What do you mean you do not have any close friends, Hermione?" she asked, consciously adopting to using her first name.

"Just that," Hermione replied. The neutral look on her face alerted Harry that something was very wrong, but he decided against asking as she continued, "I have always have had a hard time making friends."

Harry nodded. He could certainly understand what she is going through, though not for a second did he imagine that he knows what she is going through, "I can understand that," he finally said a few moments later, and before Hermione could say anything, Harry added, "But you have one friend in me, Hermione, I do hope that we could be friends."

Hermione paused for a few moments, caught by surprise by what Harry had said, "Are you sure you want me to be your friend?" she asked curiously, "There are a lot of others out there who want to be your friends, Harry,"

"They are only interested in making friends with me because of my name, Hermione, not because of who I am," he replied with an easy smile. He turned his full attention toward Hermione and said, "I do not think you are like that Hermione, but then again, I have to confess, I think I know your uncle."

"Uncle Richard?" Hermione asked, and when Harry nodded, Hermione realized that she should have known, "Last time we heard from him, he is in New Zealand." That fact brought a sad smile to the face of Hermione. Her Uncle Richard was her favorite uncle, a favoritism brought about by the fact that while other aunts and uncles would give her toys for her birthdays and for Christmas, Uncle Richard would bring her books that she could read and actually enjoy.

Harry smiled, "Would you like to see him, Hermione? This weekend?" Harry asked, and at the confused look on the face of Hermione, Harry said, "We're not going to New Zealand, mind," he chuckled, "He's coming here."

Hermione blinked, but before she could say anything, Harry clarified, "Its supposed to be a surprise inspection, but its probably going to be more of a surprise for the Hogwarts staff," he smiled and implored her, "Please don't tell them."

Hermione's tone was bitter and told Harry that he needed to investigate the past experiences of Hermione Granger in this school more, "They won't listen to me anyway," she replied off-handedly, before a smile came across her face, "It would be lovely to see Uncle Richard again."

"Good," Harry replied, "It's a date then."

Hermione blinked, unsure if she had heard Harry correctly. She could have sworn that he said 'date', but there was no way that that would be how this excursion should be classified right? In any case, there are a lot of other girls – prettier and with more worthy bloodlines – that Harry could take with him, but it took her only one look at Harry to know that she got it right.

The smile on the face of Harry was contagious and she found herself smiling, "It's a date," she finally agreed, unaware that by saying that, she had made the day of the young man who stood in front of her.


	4. Chapter IV

**A/N: **I do not own Harry Potter or anything associated with it.

* * *

**FOUR**

**Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Near Inverness**

**Scotland, British Isles, Holy Empire of Britannia**

**October 18, 1995**

The surface of the lake was calm as Harry stared at it, Hermione by his side. There was something about this calmness that was seem to speak to the very core of Harry, but even the young naval cadet was unsure, if pressed, if what was speaking to his magical core was the beauty presented by the combination of the still surface waters of the lake surrounded by lush green mountains on three sides, or if it was the girl who stood in silence beside him, seemingly enraptured by the same stillness as Harry.

The two teenagers stood about ten feet away from where the dry soil of the grounds of Hogwarts meet with the waters of the lake, and though the two of them stared into the far shore of the famous lake – '_at least, famous in the magical world,'_ Harry thought to himself – and toward the mountains that rise at the other side, both of them were keenly aware of not only the presence of the other and their side, but also of their magic. Both Harry and Hermione would admit that they had never felt magic from another that seem to be so compatible with their own, their cores practically singing in duet with the other.

A sudden flash of light at the surface of the water broke the silence that had descended between the two youngsters – a silence that neither Harry nor Hermione found uncomfortable as they realized that they are actually basking in the presence of the other – and they turned toward each other, somehow, both realizing that one of them was about to speak.

It was Harry who broke the silence, "What was that?" he asked, and even as he asked the question, the young naval cadet realized that he does not really care what the answer would be, he just wanted to hear her voice.

Hermione was more than willing to oblige, "It's probably the giant squid…" she said, unsure of her own answer. It surprised the young witch, for she was not the type of person to answer a question unless she is sure of her answer. A smile came across her face – one that Harry returned without even meaning to – as she realized that at that point in time, she truly does not care if she was wrong.

It was a welcome change for Hermione, for her past situation at this very school had forced her to always be sure of her answer before she would speak to answer a question because she knew that her so-called peers would make fun of her should she ever be proven wrong. Somehow, however, she knew that this young man in uniform beside her would not care if she was right or wrong.

"A giant squid?" Harry asked. He wanted to return his attention toward the water, if Hermione was right – and there was no doubt in the mind of Harry that she was – he wanted to see the creature, but even as he consciously tried to tell his neck to turn back to the surface of the water so that he may see the creature, his very body rebelled against the wishes of his brain.

Almost unbidden – but certainly not without Harry knowing – his hand extended toward hers, slowly at first, but there was no doubt that he was slowly increasing the speed that his hand was heading toward hers. She turned her attention toward his approaching hand, and a self-conscious Harry stopped his hand movement. Her right eyebrow formed an arch over her eye, but there was no accusation in her facial gesture, it was a mere unspoken question.

Still, Harry consciously held his hand, and it was not until Hermione actually started to reach for his hand with hers did Harry realize that the reason that Hermione had raised her eyebrow toward him was because she was wondering how long he would take before he would place his hand upon hers.

A smile came across the face of Harry, and he was glad – _'more than glad, actually,'_ he thought to himself – as the smile on his face was reflected upon hers. Without words being exchanged between the two of them, the right hand of Harry resumed its movement, and within a few moments, Harry found himself clutching the hand of Hermione on his.

The feeling of his flesh upon his was something that Harry would readily admit that he had never experienced before. He had held hands with many women in his life – as the son of a relatively high ranking noble, he was never without a partner in the many balls and galas that his parents have forced him to attend – but the feeling of the hand of this young woman upon his was something that he would not be able to readily describe, and he doubted if the most gifted of writers that he had ever met could do justice in describing exactly what Harry felt at that moment.

He was, however, not alone in feeling that indescribable feeling. The young woman whose hand he held on his own felt the exact same thing, though unlike Harry, the logical mind of Hermione had to _try _to find a description, a reason, why the hand she held on her own made her feel safe, a feeling that she had never felt before. Her parents had come close to this feeling of safety that she was now feeling, but this safety, this is different.

At almost the exact same time, they realized that they were staring at each other and a bit of color rushed up their faces to signify their embarrassment. At the same time, they removed their gaze from each other, embarrassed, but it was apparent that the embarrassment that both felt was not enough to force them to remove their hands from each other, because even as they removed their gaze from the other, the physical contact remained as neither Harry nor Hermione even bothered to remove their hand from the other.

'_What am I doing?'_ Hermione asked herself as she stared at the mountains at the distance, before she finally acknowledged – as Harry had – that there were no words that she could use to describe what she felt at that moment, '_What is this I am feeling? I've never felt this way before.'_

Both Harry and Hermione would easily admit that at that moment, what they felt was bliss, but like all good things, it must come to an end, and for the two young magicals who first met just last night, that end came with a cough from the direction of the castle.

Almost instantly, Harry and Hermione opened their hands and let go. Both felt a momentary regret at the lost of physical contact, but both were somewhat mollified when both realized that this was just the beginning. It took them a good three seconds before they turned their attention toward the direction where the offending sound came from.

Clad in the same muted blue uniform as Harry, Edward Brooke looked even more embarrassed than the two youngsters, a condition brought about by the fact that the young naval cadet had realized that he had intruded upon a moment that he really should not have intruded upon. The young cadet, however, was also confused, for as far as he knew, his partner and the young woman whose hand he held on his own before he disturbed them had only met last night.

It made no sense for the two of them to become this close – literally – overnight. Still, Edward knew that it was not for him to comment. Harry is old enough to take care of himself, and besides, there is a procedure that the naval cadets were forced to memorize before they were given instructions to join this deployment.

A sigh escaped from the lips of Edward, but not one seen by either Harry or Hermione. Edward was well aware that one of the reasons that the brigade had been sent to Hogwarts was to guard against a possible threat from _within_ the school. For that reason, the cadets – whom everyone agreed was the most likely to be approached for recruitment by possible subversive elements owing to their age and the fact that they are magical – have been warned against allowing themselves to get too close with either the students or the staff.

With a subtle shake of his head, however, Edward told himself that he owes Harry a chance to explain himself, and if the young man who was appointed cadet leader for this operation fails to give Edward an explanation that the young man would find satisfactory, then Edward would not hesitate to begin the procedure.

"Cadet Brooke?" Harry asked. Edward was forced back to the present as he noted that even though Harry had acknowledged his presence, the cadet leader had not even bothered to move from where he stood, an action – or rather, an inaction – that caused Edward to raise his eyebrow toward Harry.

It was obvious to Edward that his friend had seen his subtle action – he was not so sure about the young lady, but at that moment, Edward did not care – but Harry chose to ignore the action from his friend, an action that would have brought a frown on the face of Edward had he not remembered that at that moment, he was not speaking to Harry as his friend, rather, he was speaking to Harry as his commanding officer.

The young naval cadet was able to muster to attention faster than even he himself thought possible. Edward did not bother to salute, however, since despite the fact that Harry is his de facto commanding officer, they have the same rank – '_which, come to think of it, makes us the lowest ranking officers in the brigade,_' Edward thought.

"Cadet Leader," Edward replied, choosing to use the formal title of Harry rather than his name as he was supposed to. Edward hoped that that would alert his friend that Edward was running on high gear right now, "I have located the office of the headmaster,"

Harry blinked, twice, in confusion. As far as he was concerned, the mission to find the office of the headmaster was for him alone. He could not even remember telling Edward – or any of the other eight cadets with him for that matter – to help him find the office.

It took Harry all of two seconds to realize what was going on. It was at that time that a frown came across the face of Harry, and he was immediately of two minds regarding this distraction by his friend, but eventually, the young cadet decided against dressing down his friend. Harry had no doubt that Edward believed that he was doing the right thing, something that Harry would violently – if need be – disagree on.

Harry turned his attention slightly toward his side – and toward Hermione- before he focused his full attention toward his second-in-command. With a nod that was almost to himself, Harry decided that he best not lose his temper, especially considering that Hermione is in front of them, a decision that almost instantly caused Harry to ask himself a question, '_What is so special about this girl?'_

"Excellent," Harry said a few moments later. It was only after he had said that that he had moved from where he stood, but Harry did not move toward Edward, he moved to his side toward Hermione at the same time that she turned her attention away from Edward – whom she was giving a kind of stare that Edward could not decide if hostile or irritated. Edward watched as Harry and Hermione stared at each other for a few moments, neither saying a thing.

Finally, just as Edward was once more about to pointedly clear his throat – '_damn the consequences anyway, what could Harry do?'_ he thought to himself – Hermione broke the silence.

Unaware that Harry had _not_ ordered Edward – or any of his classmates – to help him search for the office of the headmaster, Hermione assumed that the time for leisure had ended, and the time for business had returned. A mental sigh that was not reflected upon the physical world came out of her before she said, "I have to go to class anyway,"

Harry looked positively disappointed at the announcement, but after a few moments, a small smile came across his face, "We should talk about the difference of our schooling in more depth," he suggested, "perhaps after your class today?"

Hermione bit her lip, an action that would have suggested to those who knew her well – and there are not that many of them – that she was deep in thought. After a few moments, a bright smile came across her face and she said, "That would be nice, but would you be free?"

Harry glanced toward Edward, but this time, the other naval cadet did not even bother to respond to the unasked question. Harry stared at him for a few moments, silently demanding an answer, but when his old friend and partner refused to give any, he just mentally sighed – aware that there was nothing that he could do that would be legally endorsed by either his commanding officer or by his liege lord – before he returned his attention toward Hermione, "I will find some time tonight to speak with you," he promised her. He smiled and asked, "May I know what class you are supposed to be taking today?"

"Potions in a few minutes," Hermione replied promptly. She bit her lip once more – an action that Harry realized was intoxicating to him – before she added, "and I best not be late, Professor Snape seems to take it personally when a student is late for his class, especially if the student is from Gryffindor," and as an afterthought, she added, "not that I have ever been late before."

Harry smiled in amusement, "I would not want you to get into trouble because of me," Harry replied, he politely inclined his head toward Hermione before he said, "It was nice meeting you again, and I hope to see you again tonight."

Hermione smiled, "I look forward to that as well, Mr. Potter, or should that be Cadet Potter?" she asked, but before waiting for an answer, she smiled toward Harry before she started to walk briskly back to the entrance to the castle from where she and Harry had came from. She did pointedly ignore Edward as the other naval cadet inclined his head politely toward her as she walked past him.

For a few moments, both Harry and Edward watched the retreating back of Hermione, but once the back of Hermione was covered by the polished stone that make up the external wall of Hogwarts, Harry turned his attention toward Edward. It was apparent that the other cadet was expecting this to happen, because at the same time that Harry turned his attention toward his friend, Edward also turned his attention toward him.

Edward, however, was not fast enough to have the first sentence of the conversation, that belonged to Harry, who, uncharacteristically, was on the verge of losing his temper, "What the hell was that about?" he asked.

The other cadet was not surprised by the outburst that came from his normally calm and collected friend. It did, however, serve to place Edward on guard as the cadet realized that Harry was probably already compromised. Still, Edward knew that he had to give his friend a chance, "I was covering you, you selfish dolt," Edward replied, his tone surprising both himself and Harry for it was a notch or two angrier than usual.

Harry might have been taken aback by the anger that marinated the voice of his friend, but at that moment, he was not one for backing down, and the next words that came out of his mouth confirmed that, "From what?" he demanded.

"From you," Edward replied, this time, calmer than when the conversation had first begun. A sigh escaped from the mouth of Edward, but before Harry could comment on anything, the other naval cadet continued, "You are on the verge of compromising yourself, if you have not already done so, and it is my job to prevent that from happening."

"I seem to have not gotten that when we were briefed prior to deployment," Harry commented.

Edward scoffed at him, "You did not because you are intentionally refusing to see the bigger picture," he replied, he paused for a few moments, moments that he used to turn his attention away from Harry and toward the direction where Hermione came from, as if he was afraid that she would return, "You're compromising yourself for a girl that you had just met, you don't know her," he shook his head before he added, "Do you not remember the first set of secret orders that we were given prior to deployment?"

Harry blinked, because as far as he was concerned, he was only given one set of secret orders, but after a few moments, he realized that his partner was already taking into account the new orders that they had received. With a curt nod that most senior cadets back at Annapolis would have taken offense at, Harry indicated to his partner that he remembered that one of the reasons that they had been sent to Hogwarts was to watch the students for any probably subversive leanings.

"I remember what we are supposed to do," Harry replied hotly. He stared at his friend with a hard look for a few moments, but upon realizing that there was nothing that he could do even if he were to stare at Edward till the world ends – '_like that would be a great way to pass time, I'd rather be staring at Hermione instead,'_ Harry thought to himself – he just shrugged and started to walk toward the direction of the castle, without even bothering to see if his friend was following him.

"Do you truly insist on compromising yourself, Harry?" Edward asked. He had to sprint in order to catch up with Harry, and he was beside the young man who was placed in charge of the cadets for this deployment when he observed, "You've just met her, and despite the fact that she is a first-generation does not mean that she could not have been influenced by the separatist."

"We are not even sure if there are separatists in the school, Edward," Harry replied as they crossed the gate and stepped into the school, "In any case, Hermione would never line herself with the separatist."

"You speak as if you have known her for a long time," Edward observed, a smile came across his face as he tried a tentative solution to diffuse the already worsening situation, "I know I asked you to find a girlfriend, but going for the first girl that you met takes the cake."

Harry paused and stared at Edward with a hard expression, causing the other cadet to pause. Edward realized that he may have taken things a bit too far, but after a moment or two, a smile cracked the stern visage of Harry and he replied, "I can assure you, Edward, Hermione would not line herself with traitors to the Golden Throne," he smiled before he asked a seemingly unrelated question, "Do you remember Commodore Granger?"

Edward nodded, "Deputy Chief of Staff to the General-Admiral, Grand Fleet, Commodore Richard Granger?" he asked, and when Harry nodded, it was the turn of Edward to ask the question, "What about him?"

Harry smirked at his friend as he resumed walking toward one of the entrances to the castle. He allowed a full five seconds to pass in silence before Harry explained his reason for asking the question, "Hermione is his niece," he said.

Edward blinked, twice, in surprise, but after a few moments, he nodded and a smile came across his face, "There is no way that a family member of a member of the close staff of Lord Alexander would ever think of betraying the Holy Empire," he replied, but then a sigh escaped from his lips as he observed, "The girl, however, we have no idea how long she had been here and you and I both know that there are magical ways of influencing someone,"

"No doubt you suspected that she had influenced me when you first saw us," Harry observed, but before Edward can reply – either in the affirmative or negative – Harry quickly added, "That is the reason that I asked for her to accompany me this weekend," he said. He fixed his friend another stern look, but not one as hostile as the first, before he added, "My liege is sure to travel with a contingent of escorts, he would surely bring a mind-reader, or it may be that we would not even have a need for that because Commodore Granger could handle his niece."

Edward looked unconvinced, but after a few moments, he finally nodded, "Very well," he conceded, "but I am still worried about her trying to influence you."

Harry smiled as he shook his head. He turned his attention away from his friend and returned it toward the school. Without even bothering to look at the direction of Edward, Harry said, "I am old enough to take care of myself," before he sighed and added, "Now, why don't you show me where the office of the headmaster is so that we may speak with him as soon as possible?"

**Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Near Inverness**

**Scotland, British Isles, Holy Empire of Britannia**

**October 18, 1995**

The office of the headmaster of Hogwarts was not as opulent as Harry had expected, but it was still a tad too much for the cadet. Certainly, Harry could not imagine having more than three dozen magical portraits of former headmasters and headmistresses of the school hanging from the wall, but he could understand the wisdom that having such a pool of advisors could bring.

What surprised Harry the most, however, even more than the phoenix that rested at the perch by the side of the headmaster's desk, was a mahogany desk located at the far end of the room. Various silver instruments rested upon the surface of this desk, occasionally doing odd things that Harry and Edward – who had accompanied Harry for this talk – could only assume was exactly what those things were designed to do. For the life of the two naval cadets, however, they could not see a reason for an instrument whose sole purpose appear to be to emit smoke every few seconds that dissipate before it could even form something.

Neither Harry nor Edward chose to make an issue of the eccentricities – or rumored, anyway – of the Hogwarts headmaster. Both supposed that the man – being as old as he is – is entitled to a few of them.

Headmaster Dumbledore, however, was not alone in the room. as with Harry, the headmaster of Hogwarts had chosen to bring some people into the meeting, but it did surprise both Harry and Edward that the Headmaster had brought three people with him to the meeting – _'I thought that they are supposed to be having classes,'_ Harry thought to himself as he recognized the three professors that the headmaster had brought with him, ostensibly as advisors.

'_Potions Master Severus Snape, Hogwarts professor for potions,'_ Harry thought to himself as he studied the dour man who stood at the side of the Headmaster. The meeting had not yet even began and already the man looked as if he had swallowed something that he does not agree with whole. That was all that both Harry and Edward needed to see in order to know that the potions master of Hogwarts would not be at their side. Considering the intelligence that the cadets had been given before the deployment, however, it would probably be more surprising if the potions master would side _with_ them.

The other two people inside the office that the headmaster had brought with him were more of the big question marks. Harry turned his attention toward the strict looking bespectacled woman who had her long hair tied up in a neat bun behind her head. He had no doubt that she is a strict professor, but that she is fair and that having her as a professor would be quite an experience.

If forced, however, Harry would admit that his opinion regarding transfiguration mistress and the Deputy Headmistress of Hogwarts had been colored by the stories that he had heard from his father, mother, and uncles before he even began his formal education. It was clear that Minerva McGonagall had made an impression on her students.

Imperial Intelligence was not sure where her loyalties would fall once the line was drawn. There was just not enough information about her personally to make the eggheads at Langley comfortable to make decisions regarding her. They did note, however, that from what little information they have, that the Deputy Headmistress _might_ side with the Golden Throne, noting that she came from a family who had fought with the Holy Empire during the reconquest of the British Isles.

'_Family,' _Harry thought to himself, _'Is that how they make decisions?'_

Harry supposed that there is nothing wrong with assuming that the loyalty of a family would be carried over by the next generation, after all, the Holy Empire was built upon generations of loyal families that had became peers, but it is not prudent to make assumptions based only upon the loyalty of family.

A case in point would be the other person inside the office of the headmaster. His diminutive stature and his facial characteristics betray his goblin ancestry, and it was precisely because of this ancestry that Filius Flitwick, charms professor of Hogwarts and former dueling champion, had not only been denied the position of Deputy Headmaster – '_In any case, he probably does not want it,'_ Harry thought to himself – but also of other benefits that the Hogwarts board would readily give to entice professors to teach.

Flitiwck had also put up with the restrictions that had been placed upon goblins when the Holy Empire retook the British Isles, and had mostly kept to himself. This, apparently, was not enough for the eggheads at Langley, because the intelligence pack that they had provided from the cadets clearly state that the charms professor is not to be trusted.

'_It is official policy of the Holy Empire to suppress the goblins,'_ Harry thought to himself as he remembered the history lessons that he had been forced to remember back when he was a student.

The tunnel that allowed the French Emperor to cross the English Channel was built by the goblins after the Emperor's mage advisors offered the goblins the power to control the central bank of the new French Empire. Things did not turn out the way that both sides had planned, and the fall out caused a minor skirmish between the goblins and their erstwhile human allies.

Despite the fact that it was the goblins who ensured that no underground tunnel could be created again underneath the channel – their magic had warded the entire island against such engineering projects – when the Holy Empire retook the British Isles, the goblins became second-class citizens, distrusted by the new rulers of the Isles.

At some unseen and unspoken signal, the Headmaster decided that it was time to begin the meeting, and with that, Albus turned his attention toward Harry, and said, "Harry, my boy…"

Harry cut him off, "Headmaster," Harry began formally, "Let us please remain formal, please refer to me as Cadet Potter and my companion as Cadet Brooke," he replied, he noted that Professor Snape looked livid at the suggestion, but Harry ignored the man as he focused all of his attention toward the Headmaster.

The same could not be said about Edward, however, and the other cadet kept his gaze at the potions master, albeit in such a way that the potions master could not comment about it. that, however, was the reason that Edward was brought into this meeting, to watch the back of Harry in case any of the professors inside the room were to try something funny.

Not that Harry is expecting them to do something stupid, anyway, but it never hurts to be prepared.

"Quite," the Headmaster said a few moments later, and though he tried to keep his voice neutral, Harry could detect the faintest hint of disappointment behind his tone. A small smile crept up the face of Harry at that, one that he was careful against showing his audience, as he told himself that he truly does not care of the headmaster was disappointed in him or not.

As far as Harry was concerned, there is a chance that the Headmaster is a part of the problem that they have been sent here to replace, not the solution.

'_Strange then that I considered Hermione a solution far more than a problem,'_ he thought to himself, and now that he was away from her for a relatively long time, he found that he could muster his discipline once more and actually began questioning the decision that he had made just this morning, '_The fact that the Deputy Chief of Staff and Adjutant of my liege lord is her uncle should not have been enough for me to class her with allies, at least, not without confirming it with the commodore.'_

'_Strange,'_ Harry thought to himself, but even as he attempted to paint Hermione in a bad light in his mind, he realized that he could not do so, '_Ah well,'_

Further musings on the part of Harry were interrupted at that moment when Professor Snape injected himself into the conversation, "How long would you be staying at this _school_?" he asked, his tone suggesting sarcasm and irritation.

Harry did note that his fellow professors – the Headmaster included – frowned after the potions master had finished his piece, and he filed that information away for use for a later time. It was, however, apparent, that not even his colleagues enjoy the company of the sour-faced man.

"We would remain here for as long as it takes to finish our mission," Harry replied, causing everyone – Edward included – to turn their attention toward him with incredulous expressions on their faces. It was obvious what the reason for the surprise behind the eyes of the Hogwarts staff are, after all, they had been told that this deployment is an 'exercise' rather than a mission, this is the first time that they are hearing someone say that this is an active operation of some type.

The reason behind the surprise of Edward was also obvious, though Harry would admit that it took him sometime before he realized it. His friend and partner was surprised that Harry had revealed to the staff the fact that they have a mission even if Harry had not – _yet_ – revealed what the parameters of the mission is. It had become necessary, however, to reveal the mission to the Headmaster, if only to ensure that the Headmaster would not interfere with the operation.

"I am afraid that I had not been informed that you have an active operation, Har…," a glare from the direction of Harry caused the Headmaster to quickly amend his form of address for the young man, "Cadet Potter," he said.

"We had been recently warned of this change of operations, Headmaster," Harry replied easily, he paused for a few moments before he added, "I am afraid that I could not tell you the exact details of the operation, and I could only limit the information that I could give you to those facts that I, in the exercise of my discretion, believe would allow you to assist us in the accomplishment of our objective."

"Why you little…," Professor Snape began.

This time, Harry turned his attention toward the potions master, and fixed him a glare that – although Professor Snape would not admit it – reminded the potions master of the glare of his childhood rival James. To see the deep green eyes of the woman that he loved for more than half his life stare at him with such contempt was more than the potions master could handle, and without really meaning to, Severus Snape backed down.

This allowed Harry to return his attention toward the Headmaster, and though Albus had not yet asked the question, Harry was already aware what the Headmaster was thinking, allowing Harry to answer the unasked question, "You do not have the security clearance to know, Headmaster," he replied simply.

Albus blinked – twice – in surprise. He glanced toward his potions master, expecting the man to launch into another tirade, but apparently, the glare that Harry had given him but moments ago was more than enough to neuter him, for now. The Headmaster had planned to distract Harry long enough to allow the Potions Master to enter his mind and extract information – namely, where James and Lily Potter are – but it appears that that would not be happening soon given the condition of the potions master.

"I see," the Headmaster replied to the statement of Harry at the same time that he performed passive Legilimancy on the mind of Harry. To his surprise, the Headmaster found himself not only rebuffed, he found himself discovered. The reaction of Harry, however, was what really surprised the Headmaster the most. Whereas he had expected an angry tirade, Harry merely stared at the Headmaster and said, "Attempting to enter my mind, again, would cause you, Headmaster, I suggest that you control your curiosity about what I am thinking about to yourself, another attempt would see you arrested, and given the number of classified information that I had been keeping, losing your magic would be the least of your worries."

The gasps that came from the assembled professors was expected, by both Harry and Albus, though the latter was once more surprised that Professor Snape was not jumping to his feet and calling Harry Potter a number of choice terms.

Expectedly, however, none of his remaining professors rose to defend the Headmaster. The fact that Albus had been caught attempting to enter the mind of Harry was more than enough to make both Minerva and Filius hesitant to jump to the defense of their superior.

"I apologize for my attempted intrusion, Cadet Potter," the Headmaster replied easily, a reaction that caused both Harry and Edward to wonder if the Headmaster truly meant what he had just said, but since that is neither here nor there, both Harry and Edward decided to let it slip, which was a good thing, because the Headmaster quickly added a question, "How can we help you in the accomplishment of this mission, Cadet Potter?" he asked.

"We need access to the school, Headmaster," Harry replied, and before both Minerva or Filius could enter a rejoinder, Harry added, "I assure you that what we are going to do would be of great benefit to both the school and those that are currently residing – or would reside – in it," he paused before he added, "You might even say that, should we succeed in this operation, your school would truly be the best protected site in the whole of the British Isles."

Albus doubted that, but the Headmaster knew that he had no room to maneuver in this situation. In any case, he also doubted that whatever it is that the muggle military would do in the school, it would not endanger the lives living within the walls of the castle. Just as the magical world is bound by an oath to the Golden Throne, so is the Golden Throne bound by oath to the magical world.

"Very well," the Headmaster replied easily enough. There was another reason why the Headmaster was agreeing, and it was so that he could get into the good side of Harry. His Legillimacy probe having been effectively rebuffed and detected told the Headmaster that Harry not only has Occulumency training, he was probably close to being a master in the art. If the Headmaster could not enter the mind of Harry without being detected – if at all – then a relative newcomer to the art like Severus Snape would sure as hell not be able to do it.

The Headmaster would admit, if pressed, that the reason that he agreed to what Harry had asked for him despite the inherent dangers and despite the fact that he truly does not know what Harry was asking was so that he could get Harry to talk about his parents and – more importantly – where the Potters are and what they had been up to in the fourteen years that they had disappeared from the magical world.

"He gave you what you want pretty easily enough," Edward commented as he and Harry walked pass the threshold that marked the beginning of the office of the Headmaster of Hogwarts. As soon as they were clear, the stone gargoyle that marked the entrance to the office came alive and blocked the path, though neither Harry nor Edward commented on that.

Instead, the words that came out from the mouth of Harry had something to do with what his partner and friend had just said, "He wants to get into our good side," Harry replied. He paused for a few moments – but not in his walking – before he added, "He wants to know where my parents are, he had always wanted to know, hence the reason that he had initially imprisoned my godfather."

"I don't get it, though," Edward said, he stared at Harry and asked, "Why not just ask the relevant services?"

Harry smiled, "He's a wizard, and he's the head of their form of parliament," he replied, "Albus Dumbledore might not display it, but he has an innate feeling of superiority against the non-magicals common to the 'purebloods' in this region, so he would not ask them, even if my father practically told him that he could be found by asking someone in authority in the mundane world," he shook his head and added, "He doesn't even know that I have a sister, and we plan on keeping it that way."

For a few moments, Edward did not reply, but finally he asked, "Do you think the Headmaster is a threat, Harry?"

"Anything is possible," Harry replied, but then he shook his head and quickly added, "As things are right now, I do not think the Headmaster and the Golden Throne are in disagreement, but I could certainly see the Headmaster rebelling against the Golden Throne should he convince himself that it is for the good of the many."

**Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Near Inverness**

**Scotland, British Isles, Holy Empire of Britannia**

**October 18, 1995**

Hermione could safely say that she was having a good day, which was a rare occurrence in and of itself. Last evening, she had made the acquaintance of one Harry James Potter, not aware of how important that meeting was.

As she entered the Great Hall to join the rest of the student body for lunch, she would freely admit that even right now, she does not know how important the event in her life would be, but now, after that morning and after he had invited her to join him for the weekend, she was sure that though she is not aware of the significance behind the meeting, it was an important meeting that would change her life.

To top it all off was the fact that Professor Snape chose not to make an appearance in his class. In the five years that she had been a student at Hogwarts, this was the first time that the potions master had chosen not to make an appearance in his own class. Hermione might enjoy learning and studying, but even she sometimes gets fed up with the sour-faced potions master who seems to think that he should be teaching students who already know potions, instead of being the one to teach the students in the first place.

The real cherry on the icing, however, would be her meeting with Harry tonight. Somehow, the mere thought of being with the young naval cadet tonight brought a bright smile upon her face that threatened to outshine even the most powerful _lumos_ charm that she could muster with her wand.

The loud and vivacious laughter that assaulted the ears of Hermione brought her out of her reverie and she was forced back into the present. Lunch time was always the loudest time at the Great Hall. Aside from the fact that all students have lunch period at the same time, this was also the time when most of the Hogwarts staff would not be present. Unlike breakfast – which is served from six in the morning up till nine so not all students are at the Great Hall at the same time – and dinner – which is the most formal of the three eating periods and attended by most of the staff – lunch time was also the time to pick when one wants to make a statement.

That is also the reason why lunch time is the time when the most detentions during free period are given.

Hermione made her way toward the Gryffindor table at the far right hand side of the hall, completely oblivious to the fact – '_well, not really, I'm just ignoring them,'_ Hermione thought to herself – of the poisonous looks that most of the girls inside the hall are giving him. She was used to being given poisonous looks, but from the intensity of some of the stares at her, she could guess that the fact that she is supposed to meet with Harry – '_strange, since when did I think of him as 'Harry'?'_ she asked herself – tonight had already made the rounds.

A sigh escaped from Hermione, however as she took her seat at the corner of the table. As far as she was concerned, the jealous can stare at her whenever they wanted, it was not as if that is a crime, even in the convoluted and outdated penal provisions of the British Magical World.

Hermione had taken her seat when all attention was turned away from her and toward the entrance to the Great Hall. She followed suit a few moments later just in time to see Harry walk into the Great Hall.

A smile came across the face of Hermione as she mentally noted how formal and how good he looked in his uniform – she was aware that this was not even the dress uniform of naval cadets, her uncle graduated from the Imperial Naval Academy at Annapolis, after all – as he led a group of nine other cadets into the hall, one of whom caused a frown to appear on the face of Hermione as she recognized him as Cadet Edward Brooke, the young man who had cut her meeting with Harry short.

The frown on the face of Hermione widened at that, mentally commenting to herself that had she known that Professor Snape would not be attending his classes today, she would have insisted on staying with Harry.

At that moment, however, Hermione was forced to return to the present, and it was a painful and humiliating way to make her focus on the present. She caught sight of the incoming liquid as it was thrown toward her direction from nowhere, but Hermione was nowhere near fast enough to evade it. She threw herself toward the side – away from the table – and at the same time that she closed her eyes, but the resulting pain and the feeling of something wet on the right side of her face told her that she was mostly unsuccessful in her attempt.

Moments later, she felt pain at the left side of her body, caused, no doubt, by her hitting the floor. She tried to open her eyes, but only her left eye would open and she realized that something was preventing her from opening her right eye. From the stink that she smelled practically under her nose, she was able to self-diagnose herself as having been attacked by bobotuber puss, and from the pain that she felt on her face, it was obvious that it was undiluted.

'_They certainly move fast enough,'_ Hermione commented to herself even as she tried to keep herself from losing control of her emotions. Not even she was sure exactly how she would react right now, whether she would cry or be angry, in front of Harry.

Speaking of Harry, she turned her attention toward him, and was rewarded by the sight of a shocked naval cadet. The shocked look on his face, however, was quickly replaced by anger and Hermione saw him remove his gaze from her and fix it toward the direction of her table. Magic was practically burning around Harry and he took one menacing step toward the table, no doubt to take matters into his own hands, but before he could truly do so, Professor McGonagall quickly stepped into the fray.

"Detentions, Miss Weasley," the Scottish professor practically shouted, though Hermione was sure that it was more to stop Harry than anything else, "One hundred fifty points from Gryffindor and revocation of your Hogsmeade Pass, for the rest of the school year."

'_Figures that it would be her,'_ Hermione thought to herself. She tried to turn her attention back toward her own table – the fact that it was a housemate who attacked her did not surprise Hermione – but since she could not completely turn her head, she had to settle to watching Harry.

Unfortunately or fortunately, Harry had not stopped walking – calm in the middle of a raging storm of tendrils of magic that seem to surround him – toward the Gryffindor table, and Professor McGonagall had to take further action, "Cadet Potter," she said formally, "May I ask that you take Miss Granger to the Hospital Wing?" and though it was phased as a favor, everyone in the Hall knew that it was an order, never mind the fact that Harry does not really know where the hospital wing is.

Hermione watched as Harry processed the favor of Professor McGonagall, but he did not stop walking toward the table. Had Hermione had her attention toward her Head of House at that time, she would have gasped when she realized that the professor had actually drawn her wand and was ready to point it toward Harry to defend the people who had attacked Hermione.

Fortunately, Harry paused and gave the Scottish professor a tentative nod before he forced himself back under control. The tendrils of magic that seem to crack and originate from within Harry disappeared and Hermione watched as Harry sighed in an obvious attempt to keep his temper in check.

"Hey," Harry said a few moments later as he knelt beside Hermione so that he could take her in his arms, "I know this is a bit earlier than we both had planned, but would you do me the honor of staying with me and having that discussion that we talked about this morning while I bring you to the hospital wing?"

Hermione nodded, "Harry..," she said, but she was forced to stop as she felt Harry take her in his arms. She had fully expected him to allow her to walk on her own – after all, she could still walk – but it was apparent that Harry would not have that. He placed her hand under his body and her legs and with strength that she could have sworn he does not have, he lifted her to his chest.

Hermione would have protested at that action, but whatever protest that it was on her throat and ready to be launched died before it could truly be voiced. She had only felt this secure and safe when she was a toddler and in the arms of her father, but even the sense of safety and security that her father had given her that time paled in the face of the sense of safety and security that Harry was giving her as he pressed her close to his chest.

A deft movement to her side caught the attention of Hermione and she turned her attention at that direction just in time to see Cadet Brooke wave his hand. To the surprise of Hermione, the pain that she felt went away.

"Thank you," Hermione tentatively tried.

Cadet Brooke smiled at her and said, "It was nothing," though he frowned when he added, "I am afraid that that is the extent of my healing abilities, Miss Granger, the rest would have to wait till Cadet Potter could bring you to the Hospital Wing," he did not bother to wait for an answer before he turned toward Harry and said, "You take her, we'll wait for you here."


	5. Chapter V

**A/N: **I do not own Harry Potter or anything associated with it.

* * *

**FIVE**

_**Imperial Parliament closes Raleigh Point Shipyards; says 'no' to further Duke-class battleships**_

_**Raleigh Point, Duchy of New York – **__In a stunning move that left many high-ranking officials of the Imperial Navy stunned, the Imperial House of Lords had decided to weigh in on the issue of the further acquisition of the Duke-class battleships, lending their support to the leadership of the House of Commons and putting an end to construction of the sixth vessel as well as canceling the four others that are yet to be laid down._

_At two hundred fifty seven meters overall and weighing more than one hundred twelve thousand tons at full load, the Duke-class of super dreadnought battleships were envisioned to be the lead ships of the Imperial war-fleets well into the twenty first century, but it appears that this would no longer be the case as the formal order to begin dismantling the hull of HMS Viscount of the Nile – named after Vice Admiral Sir Horatio Nelson, Viscount of the Nile and hero of Trafalgar – was received this morning by the management of the only shipyard in the whole world that are capable of building the massive behemoths that are now mostly tasked with showing the flag._

_Originally conceived by Fleet Admiral Sir Walter Thomas Burns, then First Sea Lord, the Duke-class super dreadnought battleships are built around a new and improved command and control suite that allowed the battleships to function as command ships, and the new Mk XXII (20') heavy gun, twelve of which are carried by the super battleships in four three-gun turrets. _

_Coupled with a heavy anti-aircraft suite – nearly one hundred forty millimeter anti-aircraft guns spread all over the ship – and an armored citadel with steel armor twenty inches at its thickest, the Dukes are the most survivable of current Imperial warships, and is envisioned to be leaders of Britannian battleship divisions and dedicated command ships in the Air-Ground Concept of Operations pioneered by Fleet Admiral Burns and Field Marshall Jeremy Townsend, then Commander of the Imperial Army. The protection of the ships, however, was achieved at a cost of more than seventy one million Britannian Pounds per ship. _

"_We would be saving seventy million pounds per year, seventy million pounds that we can use for other, far more important endeavors like education and medical care," Daniel James Bean, MP for Belhaven and Head of the Federalist Party, was quoted as saying during one of the budget debates at the floor of the House of Commons._

"_It is true that seventy million pounds would be well appreciated by the Ministry of Social Affairs," High Admiral Kyle Forlani, Third Sea Lord and Commander of the Imperial Airfleet, admitted during a recent interview with BNN's Marian Attenborough, "but all the money in the world would mean nothing if we could not defend our country, and the Dukes serve that purpose not by sinking enemy ships, but just by existing as a fleet-in-being. As long as they exist, any potential enemy would have to take them into consideration."_

_Sources within the Crystal Palace are reporting that the Empress is not ready to take sides in this growing debate, but without a dissenting opinion from Her Majesty, the debate may well have been already decided. _

"_The crux of the matter in the Crystal Palace is the fact that the Duke-class are yet to prove themselves in battle," an anonymous source from within the Crystal Palace had revealed, "For Her Majesty – who has a grandson aboard one of the Duke-class battleships – the weighing scale is all about balancing the budget, would it be cheaper in the long run to continue building the Duke-class battleship – with their price-tag but a powerful ship for future foes to consider and defend against – or would it be better to fall back to the original Hermione-class replacement – cheaper, but absent the morale factor brought about by the larger Duke-class battleships."_

_Either way, however, it would appear that the Imperial Fleet would have to wait before a new battleship would join her growing line of capital ship. The last of the Duke-class battleships placed the number of Britannian first-rate battleships at one hundred sixty nine hulls, supported by seventy one first-rate battlecruisers and forty four first-rate aircraft carriers. _

_The hull of the first of this new class of warships – HMS Duke, named after the original twelve Dukes of the Holy Empire – was launched in 1983, seven years after the ship was first proposed._

_Unique among Britannian warships, the Duke-class battleships are referred to as 'he' rather than the more traditional 'she'._

_HMS Duke formally entered service six months later after trial and commissioning with the Empress herself as the primary sponsor. The lead ship of the class is now in service with the Imperial Home Fleet where she serves as the flagship of High Admiral Sir Cyrus Hughes, General-Admiral of the Imperial Home Fleet._

_The last ship of the class is HMS Iron Duke, named after Field Marshall Sir Arthur Wellesley, Duke of Wellington, and commander of the defenders of Cornwall prior to the Passage of Tears. HMS Iron Duke was launched three years ago. He is currently the flagship of Lord High Admiral Sir Alexander Charles York, newly appointed Prince of Wales and Scotland, General-Admiral of the Imperial Grand Fleet._

**Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Near Inverness**

**Scotland, British Isles, Holy Empire of Britannia**

**October 18, 1995**

Hermione stood in relative silence with Harry beside her, his attention aimed toward the sky and toward the direction of one of the huge mountain ranges that seem to surround the castle housing the school at three different directions.

His actions clued her to the fact that the people whose arrival they are waiting for would come from that direction, so she would also turn her attention toward that direction every few minutes to see if the people that they are expecting had already arrived. So far, however, there were no indications, and if the formally attired soldiers that are gathered in front of Hermione are to be of any assistance in this endeavor, it was the fact that although all of them are in formation, they are still relaxed and not standing in active attention. Hermione knew enough about the military to know that if the arrival is imminent, their officers would call them to attention.

More often than not, however, the attention of Hermione would be focused on the young man that stood beside her. Harry stood at a position that he had been standing on for the past week, not in terms of location perhaps, but in terms of whom he stood with. For the past week since the arrival of the brigade at Hogwarts and since their introduction to each other, Harry and Hermione had stood at the side of the other for as long as often as their respective schedules would allow them.

Class work, prefect duties, homework, and other extra-curricular activities had meant that Hermione had not as much time as she would have wanted with him, but she considered that fortuitous since his own duties had conspired to keep him away from her as well. The two of them consider themselves lucky that they have enough time to hang out with each other, often under the guise of further discussions pertaining to their duties as liaisons for their respective organizations.

Today, however, was a special day. For some reason, the Headmaster was aware that someone important was coming, and had required the students to attend the welcoming ceremony that was to be held _outside _the school. It was a good thing that it was a weekend because had it been otherwise, Hermione was sure that the Headmaster would have cancelled classes.

The hand of Harry found hers, and she turned her attention toward him with the intent of raising her eyebrow in an unasked question, but when she turned her gaze toward him, his gaze actually remained ahead of him, toward the sky where she was sure their visitors are going to arrive from. A smile crept up the face of Hermione at that, and instead of asking him the question that she wanted to ask, she merely gazed at him and took in how good he looked in his dress uniform.

As with his classmates, Harry wore a sword at his left hip, kept there by a black sash that went from his right shoulder diagonally across his chest and the front of his dark gray uniform, but unlike his classmates, he wore a dark gray combination cap over his unruly black hair with an anchor device displayed prominently on the cap. Harry had told her that the device was representative of the fact that he is a naval cadet, and that the reason that he was the only one wearing a cap – his classmates all wore dark gray berets – was because he was their de facto commanding officer.

Hermione removed her gaze from Harry and turned it toward the opposite direction. Headmaster Albus Dumbledore and his staff looked either bored or amused by the formation of military men that they had their gazes focused on. Hermione neither felt obligated nor said anything to any of them that those men that they are now staring at might look too pretty for war, but at the same time that they stood in formation, they are carrying loaded rifles slung on their shoulders.

This past week had seriously eroded the faith that Hermione had with authority figures – or at least, those who are not doing their jobs properly. In the aftermath of the attack against her perpetrated by Ginevra Weasley, Hermione had lost a lot of trust with the professors. The reason for that is aside from the detentions that she had received the Weasley girl had not received any other punishment. Sure, it was a simple prank gone wrong, as the Headmaster had placed it when Hermione complained, but what the Headmaster failed to realize was that the liquid nearly got into the eye of Hermione. That would have caused damage to her vision at the least, though Madam Pomfrey, the school healer, had warned that it could have led to the lost of her sight or perhaps, even death if the liquid had managed to penetrate as deep as her brain.

Her lost of faith with her professors was one of the reasons that she stood by the side of Harry amongst the military instead of the other students, despite the fact that she knew that her open display of allegiance would have not made her friends amongst the Hogwarts students. In any case, however, Hermione knew that things would change after this event because her uncle is amongst those that are slated to visit today.

A nudge from Harry tore Hermione out of her reverie, and when she looked at him – this time with the accompanying raising of her eyebrow as a questioning gesture – Harry smiled at her once before he motioned for Hermione to turn her attention toward the direction where he and his classmates – as well as the other soldiers – had been looking at for the past ten minutes or so since they moved into position.

At first, Hermione could not see anything when she turned her gaze toward the direction that Harry had indicated, then she saw the massive dark figure that seemed to have been disgorged by the very clouds.

The dark shaped figure was huge, easily more than a hundred feet high, yet it floated amongst the clouds at ease. The distance had muted some features of the incoming object, but as that distance shrunk, Hermione could not help but suck in a breath as she realized that she was looking at the business end of six massive naval artillery pieces pointed at her. She turned her attention toward Harry and mouthed a question, "Battleship?" she asked.

Harry nodded, but for a few moments, he did not say anything, though he motioned for Hermione to return her attention to the skies. For a few moments, she looked miffed that he would not reply to her question, but she knew that there must be something that he wants to show her if he is motioning for her to look at the sky.

Her eyes widened once more when she saw that in the interval that she needed to turn her attention toward Harry, four other dark figures – battleships, she assumed – had emerged from the clouds, their noses pointing toward rear of the ship that they are following, forming an almost straight line of five battlewagons heading toward – obviously – the surface of the lake of Hogwarts.

"His Grace is a military officer, and he is the commander of the Imperial Grand Fleet," Harry said, finally turning his attention toward Hermione, a small smile on his face, "It is but fitting that he use his flagship when visiting any place, though admittedly, this is mostly because he is due further north," and at the confused look on the face of Hermione, Harry added, "Orkney Islands, he's building a new base for the Grand Fleet there, away from the primary base at Portsmouth," he shrugged and tried to convey the impression that he has no idea for the reason, "Strategic considerations," he added.

Hermione opened her mouth, but then she nodded and closed it. Despite the fact that Harry tried to show that he does not know the reason, Hermione was sure that the young naval cadet was well aware of the reason, but since he did not see fit to tell her just yet, she is going to trust him.

By this time, the five battleships had closed the distance enough for the students and staff to discern the features of the five ships. Hermione was easily able to conclude that while the first ship looked larger, more powerful, and more intimidating, the four ships that followed her looked almost similar with each other.

"_HMS Iron Duke_," Harry said as he motioned toward the first battleship, "and his consorts, _HMS Hermione, HMS Daphne, HMS Arethusa, _and _HMS Leda_."

Hermione did not reply to the introduction of Harry, she was so focused on the ships. By this time, the ships are already floating over the surface of the lake, about fifty feet and slowly losing altitude as whatever it was that kept them floating in mid-air slowly disengaged for a controlled descent.

The four battleships all have four turrets located along the centerline of the vessel, two fore and two aft, while the leading ship had six turrets along the centerline. It was, however, obvious that those twelve massive guns – there are four turrets with three guns each – are not the only weapons of the ship. Smaller turrets housing smaller guns were scatted along the side of the ship, located amidships.

What took the attention of Hermione, however, were the smaller guns that bristled all along the ship, unmanned perhaps, but intimidating nonetheless.

"There are twenty other ships of this size out there, Hermione," Harry said, forcing Hermione out of her reverie. She looked at him just in time to watch him say, "This is Lord Alexander's personal battle squadron, but I am sure there are other ships within range, probably the battlecruisers of Admiral Bingham and other battleships," he shook his head and returned his attention front as the bottom of the hull of the ships gently slipped into the water.

At the same time that the bottom of the hull split the surface of the water, a gangway was loosened from where it was secured on the top deck. Working fast but with amazing precision and well practice choreography, a team of four sailors had managed to run the gangway out at the same time that the battlewagon – _HMS Iron Duke_ – had stopped sinking into the water. A team of marines that are already on the ground secured the gangway at the other end before they took their positions along the side of the passage and stood at attention.

Ten minutes later, a gaggle of officers emerged from within the superstructure of the ship and made their way to where the gangway was attached to the ship. Hermione expected them to descent from the boat at the same time, but when the gaggle reached the quarter deck from where the gangway was, they stopped and allowed one person to descend the stairs first.

All attention was turned toward this man, even those of Hermione, so that they could study him. A combination white and black combination cap adorned his head, but he was too far for anyone from Hogwarts to see the badge on his cap. His black tail coat had a standing collar, white with gold edgings. A black and gold belt, gold-laced trousers, polished black dress shoes, black gloves, two gold shoulder boards and a sword – but without the sash worn by Harry – completed his ensemble.

"Lord Alexander," Harry said as the man took his first step at the gangway. At the same moment that the Duke took his step, the sailors and the marines that set up the gangway for him saluted despite the fact that they are not facing him. The salute was taken up by the other soldiers who waited for one of the highest ranking military officers and peer in the Empire.

Harry and Hermione watched as Brigadier General Arnott – wearing his formal dress uniform as well – stepped out of his place the moment that Lord Alexander stepped into the ground. Salutes and handshakes were exchanged before the brigadier motioned for Lord Alexander to step out of the shade, but the Duke shook his head and instead turned his attention toward the battleship again.

Harry and Hermione turned their attention toward the gangway just in time to see a young lady – relatively – descending the gangway. Hermione noted that this lady looked calm and controlled, and there was actually a smile on her face as she descended. Having no idea who this young woman was, Hermione turned her attention toward Harry with the intention of asking him.

The young cadet, however, already noted the question of Hermione before she could even ask it, "Lady Emma Charlotte Spencer, Marchioness of Montana," Harry said, "Lord Alexander's childhood friend, his closest advisor, and fiancée."

Hermione watched as Lady Emma took her position to the left hand side of Lord Alexander, but as with Lord Alexander, she refused to move from her position when Brigadier Arnott motioned for them to move into the shade.

"There are other officers that are going down," Harry answered the unasked question of Hermione.

At the same time that Lady Emma descended from the gangway, a few meters away from where Harry and Hermione stood, the staff of Hogwarts watched, most with deference, aware of the fact that the young man that had just descended from the gangway was not only the grandson of the Empress, he is also their landlord. The witches and wizards the form the teaching staff of Hogwarts are well aware of the powers of the newly named Prince of Scotland and are acting in deference, except for one Professor Snape.

"That stupid muggle contraption should not have been allowed here, Headmaster," the surly man complained as he fixed the five battleships with a look that he reserve for Gryffindors, in other words, with those that he had nothing but contempt for, "The man is attempting to intimidate us."

Before the Headmaster could answer to slightly admonish his potions professor – it was far better that it be him who would admonish the man rather than the tongue-lashing that Minerva was sure to deliver, or the look of pure contempt that Filius would give the man – but before he could even open his mouth, the Gryffindor lioness jumped into the conversation, "Aye, Snape, he is, and you should be intimidated," she said.

"Minerva..," Albus began.

That turned out to be the wrong move for the Headmaster because at that moment, the Deputy Headmistress of Hogwarts turned toward her boss and gave him his own tongue-lashing, "That 'stupid muggle contraption' as Professor Snape points out is carrying at least twelve cannons, and from the size of those cannons, I daresay that not even the wards and the walls of Hogwarts _combined_ would protect us."

The Headmaster blinked, "Minerva, surely..," he began.

This time, it was the turn of Professor Flitwick to enter the fray, and as always, he was in agreement with Minerva, "Minerva is right," the half-goblin, half-human professor that not even Professor Snape wanted to cross said, "there are five of them, and the man that we are going to meet is the Prince of Scotland and a grandchild of the Empress, there are more of them out there, just keeping out of sight, of that, I am sure."

"I think you overestimate their capabilities," Professor Snape said with a sneer, "They're just muggles."

"I know you underestimate their abilities, young Severus," Professor Flitwick replied, emphasizing a certain word that caused the potions master of Hogwarts to turn a shade or two redder than normal, though before the man could say anything, the charms professor continued, "Who do you think invented that machine that allowed those machines to operate in the air? Their mainstream history books would tell you a complicated process of electrical reactions in confined spaces and what-not that does not really tell you anything at all, but I only need to look at it once to know how it works."

"Charms?" Minerva asked, her curiosity actually getting the better of her. Unlike Professor Flitwick, she was not a master in charms, but that was hardly surprising considering the subject that she teaches.

"Among others, yes," Professor Flitwick admitted, "Runes as well."

Professor Snape looked ready to comment, but before he could do so, the attention of everyone returned to the officers who were coming from the ship. A trio of military officers descended from the ship before the staff continued their debate, thus missing the fact that a certain Hogwarts student smiled at the sight of her uncle coming down from the flagship of the Britannian Imperial Grand Fleet.

"So they needed help from us, that proves that we are superior to them," Professor Snape said, reopening the debate.

"I should have known that you would not lose that attitude, Professor Snape," Minerva replied, a sarcastic tone attached to her use of the term professor, "Once a Death Eater, always a Death Eater."

The potions master again turned a shade or two redder than usual, but before he could comment, the Headmaster cut into the argument, "Minerva," he admonished his deputy, "I trust Severus," he said in a tone that suggested that he fully expected that that would be the end of this discussion.

Minerva looked belligerent for a few moments, and she would have continued the argument had the Headmaster, at that moment, not gasp at something, as if he was surprised and it was difficult to surprise the old man.

Curiosity got the better of the professors and they turned their attention toward the direction that the Headmaster was looking at when he gasped. Before they could help it, the professors also gasped as they recognized the features of the couple that was walking along the gangway toward the ground, taking a step into Hogwarts grounds for the first time since they left the magical world nearly fifteen years ago.

James and Lily Potter had returned to their school, and to Magical Britain.

**Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Near Inverness**

**Scotland, British Isles, Holy Empire of Britannia**

**October 18, 1995**

The meeting was supposed to be an informal meeting, but with the number of people involved – at least half a dozen on both sides of the table – there was no way to excuse this as an informal meeting. Sure, the topics that are going to be discussed would probably be informal in a sense, but the highest ranking members of the two sides are gathered here, their respective staff surrounding them, forming a half-circle centered on their leaders as the two men glared at each other over a table.

Lord James Charles Potter, Viscount of Lisbourne, allowed his eyes to wander. The office of the Headmaster of Hogwarts had not changed much in the nearly fifteen year interval since he and his wife had disappeared from the magical world, though in the case of this office, it was probably closer to twenty years now since the last time that James was called into this office to answer for something that the staff believed he had done was when he was in his fifth year of schooling.

'_That was a long time ago,'_ James said to himself at the same time that he glanced at his wife. Lily kept her attention straight, but she was not staring at Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts who sat in his throne, no, the Lady Potter was staring at the still stunned visage of her former best friend and the man who had insulted her in front of the whole school when they were in fifth year, Hogwart's Potions Master, Professor Severus Snape.

James would have smiled at that point as he realized that his childhood rival would welcome the stare of Lily, had it not been for the fact that as Lily stared at her old friend, her stare was marinated not with sympathy or happiness at seeing her old friend again, it was practically shining with contempt and an almost casual disregard for the fact that he exist.

'_That's probably the reason why he is still stunned,_' James said to himself, though he would not claim that that is the reason why the rest of the staff appear to be in the same limbo as their youngest member. The Viscount of Lisbourne, however, knew the exact reason behind the stunned visage of their former professors.

James returned his attention to his lord and lady, both of whom were seated in front of the Headmaster. A smile crept up the face of the Magical Advisor of the Prince of Scotland when he saw that beneath the surface of the table – and away from the field of vision of the Headmaster and any of his staff – Lord Alexander held the hand of Lady Emma on his own.

At some unseen signal, the Prince tightened his grip around the hand of his fiancée, but rather than turning his attention toward her and engaging her in conversation, the prince kept his gaze straight toward the Headmaster – who looked neutral, a trick that James knew was just that, a trick – politely inclining his head toward the older man before he opened, "Headmaster," Lord Alexander said respectfully, acknowledging the fact that Albus was older than him, but at the same time, his tone emphasized his authority, a tone that could only have been accomplished by someone like Lord Alexander who was trained from a very young age that he is a lord.

James could not do it, and neither could Lily despite the fact that both of them are members of the Imperial Britannian peerage.

"I must say," Lord Alexander continued, not even giving the Headmaster a chance to enter the conversation, "I am most pleased to see that your students are very welcoming of the soldiers of the Holy Empire."

James hid a snicker that threatened to come out of his mouth, feigning a cough as he turned his attention away from his front and toward the rear. By the time that he was done and had returned his attention to the front, two people were staring at him with raised eyebrows, his wife and his liege lord, but while the latter would let it go, James knew that his wife was going to be a different story. Fortunately, Lily was not going to make a commotion in front of everyone, well, no more of a commotion than their reappearance had already made.

"We are servants of the Golden Throne," the Headmaster replied neutrally. The rest could not be said about his staff, however. The three Heads of Houses who are aware of the power behind the Oath – McGonagall, Flitwick, and Sprout – looked the most neutral. They know the power behind Lord Alexander despite the fact that he is muggle.

The same could not be said about the other members of the staff, though most of whom seem resigned to the words that came out from the mouth of the Headmaster. One, however, looked ready to complain – and complain to high heaven from the look of anger in his face – had the Headmaster not glared at him to shut him up.

Having experienced the glare of the Headmaster before, this was not a novel experience for Severus Snape, but the intensity of the glare caused the Potions Master to visibly flinch before the sour-faced man settled down and closed his mouth, whatever it was that he was about to say completely forgotten in the face of an angry glare from the Headmaster.

"Good," Lord Alexander said. James knew that the prince pretended not to notice and note the interaction between the Headmaster and his staff, but Lady Emma did not even bother with that lights show. Lord Alexander might ignore the pointed gestures from their hosts, but not Lady Emma and James knew that that was how the two operated, Lord Alexander focuses on the big things while Lady Emma would be in charge of subtlety.

"I trust that Cadet Potter had informed you that I had given him a secret mission regarding your school, Headmaster?" Lord Alexander asked.

The shocked reaction from the Hogwarts staff told James and everyone in the staff of Lord Alexander that the Headmaster did not see fit to inform them of the meeting between himself and Harry – or at least, it appeared that the Headmaster neglected to inform the lowest members of his staff.

Headmaster Dumbledore, however, ignored their shocked reactions and focused his attentions toward Lord Alexander. The self-declared Leader of the Light, for a few moments, thought about entering the mind of the young but powerful – not in terms of magic, perhaps, being a muggle, but politically and militarily, this man in front of him, Albus knew, is one of the most powerful in the Empire, if not the world – but almost instantly dismissed it.

Occulumency is a rare art in the sense that muggles could learn it, and the Headmaster had no doubt that a man as powerful as Lord Alexander would have neglected it. The Headmaster also knew that there is at least one more magical in the staff of Lord Alexander, a magical bodyguard whose job it was to protect the Prince from magical attacks, and Albus knew that retaliation from such person would not be conducive to his health. In any case, it was not the magical retaliation that the Headmaster fears the most.

Albus glanced slightly toward a window that faced the Black Lake of Hogwarts. The row upon neat row of uniformed color tents and armored personnel carriers was more than enough to chill the Headmaster to the bones. He had no doubt that those men would react if their liege lord – '_Actually, seeing that he is my landlord, he is supposed to be my liege lord, as well,'_ Albus thought to himself – was in any danger.

As terrifying as three thousand angry soldiers armed with rifles, heavy machineguns, and grenades are, however, they pale in comparison to the five battleships that float idly on the surface of the Black Lake, forming a neat line.

Their armored turrets housing their big guns might be pointing fore and aft right now, but the Headmaster had no doubt that those turrets – and those ships – could swing toward where he is in less than five minutes. Despite the ramblings of his potions master, Albus knew exactly just how powerful those guns could be, having encountered them during his youth – well, relative youth – while hunting for Grindelwald in mainland Europe.

It was for this reason that the Headmaster of Hogwarts decided against entering the mind of Lord Alexander, forcibly or otherwise. The Headmaster made a mental note to warn Severus about this later at the same time that he hoped that Severus would use his admittedly powerful brain to think about the possible consequences of an unauthorized mind probe in the direction of Lord Alexander.

'_Come to think of it,'_ Headmaster Dumbledore thought to himself, as he turned his attention slightly toward the young lady who sat by the side of the Prince, '_It's probably not a good idea to probe the Marchioness as well.'_

"Yes, Cadet Potter had informed me of the mission, but not the specifics," Albus replied a few moments later, earning more shocked looks from the faces of his staff as they realized that not only had the Headmaster not informed them of _that_ meeting, it would appear that the Headmaster had allowed the unknown mission to proceed despite the fact that the Headmaster was completely unaware of the specifics of the operation.

Strangely, they seem more insulted with the fact that the Headmaster was unaware of the specifics of the mission than they are about the fact that the Headmaster had not seen fit to inform them of the meeting.

Lord Alexander nodded, "This is an important mission," the Prince said in a matter-of-factly voice that would broker no argument, either from his side or the side of the Headmaster and his staff. The Prince looked thoughtful for a few moments before he added, "National Security, not only of the mundane, but also of the magical, world is at stake here, and I am happy that you had allowed my people to do their job."

Albus smiled at the Prince despite the fact that deep within him, he wanted to scream at the man and inform him that there was only two choices available to him at that point, either cooperate with the demands of the military men that are encamped just outside his gates or be crushed by those same men that are encamped just outside his gates. There really was no decision to make.

Speaking of those military men that are encamped just outside his gates…

"Highness," Albus began, and a frown crossed his face when he saw that Lord Alexander did not look at him when he used the honorific term. The Headmaster looked perturbed and was about to say something else when he was cut off, and the interference came from an unexpected source.

"'Your Grace' would be the appropriate term, Headmaster," Lily Potter said from her position beside her husband, "His Grace prefers the honorific term for a Duke rather than a Prince because His Grace has been a Duke far longer than he has been a Prince."

"Of course, Lily, I…," the Headmaster began.

Once more, Lily cut him off. Using a tone that was both disrespectful and respectful – at the same time, no less – Lily said, "The proper address for me and my husband is Lord and Lady Potter, Headmaster," she said in a matter-of-factly voice that caused a grin to appear on the face of James, though again, he hid it from the rest of the occupants of the room. The Viscount of Lisbourne had no doubt that even Lord Alexander and Lady Emma had grins on their face that point.

"Seeing that we were once your students, Headmaster, I think we could dispense with the honorific terms for us, but the same could not be said for the Prince or the Marchioness," Lily suddenly said.

"Yes, Lady Potter, of course," the Headmaster stammered, "Quite an honor you have bestowed upon me, Lily, to allow me to call you and James by your first names."

"We were your students, Headmaster," Lily replied with a tone of finality that caused James to smile. Essentially, his wife had pulled the breaches of the Headmaster, spanked him, then pulled the breaches back where she had found it, giving the staff of Hogwarts no reason to complain at all.

Judging from the looks on the faces of the staff, it was obvious that complain was the one thing that they wanted to do right now.

"Your Grace," Albus began a few moments later, letting bygone be bygones – mostly because he knew that he could not win – and when Lord Alexander turned his attention toward the Headmaster, Albus said, "May we talk about the men that are stationed outside the gates of the school?"

"Certainly," Lord Alexander replied, "'C' Brigade, 22nd Infantry Division, under Brigadier General Winston Arnott and augmented by ten cadets from the Imperial Naval Academy, Headmaster, as I believe you had been informed, they are here to conduct some maneuvers."

The Headmaster wanted to point out that since their arrival, the only thing that the brigade was doing was sitting around and apparently waiting for something to happen. There are certainly no maneuvers being conducted, and the Headmaster was about to complain about that when he realized that while the Prince might decide to pull this brigade back where it came from, another would just take its place.

That brigade might be accompanied by a different team of cadets, and the Headmaster wanted Harry Potter in Hogwarts right now, so he decided against complaining, "How long would we host them, Your Grace?" Albus asked instead.

Lord Alexander shook his head, and with a smile, he said, "To tell you the truth, Headmaster, I have no idea," he replied truthfully, but instead of waiting for a reply from the Headmaster, he turned his attention toward one of his uniformed staff members and asked, "Vice Admiral Cline?"

Vice Admiral Kevin Francis Cline, chief-of-staff to Lord Alexander, replied right away, "The brigade has enough supplies for one month of deployed and continuous operations, Admiral," he reported, "I suppose that they are going to stay until their supplies run out, after all, they are Army, we are Navy."

Lord Alexander nodded and turned his attention toward the Headmaster with a look on his face that clearly asked the Headmaster if that answered his question.

The Headmaster nodded, happy that within a month, the soldiers would be leaving, though that meant that he only had a month to convert Harry Potter. He expected no problems with converting the young Potter to his way of thinking though.

Of course, the Headmaster assumed that when Vice Admiral Cline mentioned 'deployed and continuous operations', the man meant exactly what the brigade was doing right now. The truth was, the brigade was on reduced operations deployment since they were deployed. While it is true that the brigade only has a month's worth of supply with them, that was for continued _battlefield_ operations – a shooting war which meant that the brigade was always on the move. That was hardly the case here. The truth was, the brigade had enough supplies to last them more than a month.

**Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Near Inverness**

**Scotland, British Isles, Holy Empire of Britannia**

**October 18, 1995**

Harry instantly snapped to attention – as did the nine other naval cadets with him – when Lord Alexander entered the command tent where Harry and the cadets were waiting for him. Hermione stood from where she was seated just a second or two after the naval cadets.

Lord Alexander was quickly followed into the command tent by his staff, both military and civilian, but Harry restrained himself from running to his parents to greet them, waiting for permission from Lord Alexander.

The Prince waved them back to their seats, but while the nine others resumed their seats, Harry remained standing, and because Harry remained standing, Hermione remained standing as well, "Your Grace," Harry began.

Lord Alexander removed his sword and gently handed it to the waiting hands of Lady Emma – alone among the Britannian peerage is Lady Emma, when it comes to holding the sword of not only an active military officer, but the sword of a member of the Royal Family – who took it without words before she secured it inside a briefcase that was carried by an enlisted man who was part of the staff of Lord Alexander.

Only when the Prince had removed his weapon – and his headgear, revealing his short, black hair – did he turn toward Harry with a questioning look. It not the first time that he had seen Harry with the beautiful young lady that now stood by his side – after all, he had seen them this morning – and the Prince quickly realized that the son of two of his most trusted advisors was about to introduce the young woman to him.

"Your Grace," Harry repeated, his tone suddenly strained and high as he attempted to contain his nervousness, "May I present, Miss Hermione Granger?"

Hermione curtsied in front of Lord Alexander and the Prince acknowledged the curtsy with a slight smile and by politely inclining his head toward Hermione, "Any relation to Rear Admiral Granger?" the Prince asked.

"My uncle, Your Grace," Hermione replied. She had thought about using the honorific 'Your Highness', but since Harry used that honorific, Hermione figured that it would be for the best if she were to follow suit and use that honorific term instead.

The smile on the face of Lord Alexander widened at that, "Yes, Richard has been a godsend," Lord Alexander said a few moments later, he inclined his head toward Hermione once more before he said, "Do forgive me, Miss Hermione, but I would be in your debt if I could borrow young Harry for a few moments?"

Hermione blinked, "Yes…, of course, Your Grace," Hermione stammered, taken aback by the words of the Duke, though she was paying attention when the Duke actually bowed toward her before he turned toward Harry and motioned for him to follow.

A sigh escaped from the lips of Harry – and he did not even bothered to hide it – as he followed the Prince. First, they went out of the tent before they climbed into the rear of the command vehicle of Brigadier General Arnott. Harry was surprised to see that the command vehicle was empty, something that almost never happens because there are supposed to be people on duty here at all times.

He would later learn that for the duration of the visit of Lord Alexander, headquarters had been transferred to the bridge of _HMS Iron Duke_, where the flag-captain of Lord Alexander and his marine commander are on duty.

"How goes the mission?" Lord Alexander asked Harry without preamble. At the same time that the Prince asked that question, he pulled a chair and sat down before he motioned for Harry to do the same. Uncomfortable with the fact that he was alone with someone as high ranking and as powerful as his liege lord, Harry was grateful for the permission to seat, he felt as if his legs would give up under him.

"We are scouring the castle for the item, Your Grace….," seeing the frown that appeared on the face of Lord Alexander, Harry quickly amended the honorific term, "Admiral."

"The week has been busy," Lord Alexander commented off-handedly a few moments later. The Prince paused for a few moments before he added, "General Arnott had forwarded the schedule that Cadet Brooke had came up with, reflecting your division of duties as well as your search of the castle, and I find it intriguing, Harry, that you found the time to romance the niece of one of my most trusted officers at the same time that I am expecting you to be doing your job."

"Sir, I..," Harry began.

Lord Alexander raised his hand and motioned for Harry to stop, and against that, the young naval cadet had no choice but to follow instructions. The moment that the mouth of Harry closed, that of Lord Alexander opened, "The schedule reflected that you are pulling your own weight, Harry, I have no complaints with that, and certainly no complaints had reached me that you are going over your scope of duties and abusing the power that has been granted to you for the duration of this deployment," he said.

"She was appointed liaison officer with us, Admiral," Harry replied, and when Lord Alexander raised his eyebrow toward him in question, Harry continued, "The Headmaster thought that it was a good idea if we have liaisons with the student body, just in case."

Lord Alexander looked thoughtful for a few moments, but then he nodded, "You realize that his goals since the disappearance of your family from the British Isles and the magical world had not changed?" he asked, "He still wants you and your parents to joint his faction."

"I suspect that that is the case, sir," Harry replied, "Nevertheless, I can assure you that it would not happen, the Potter family siding with those that had betrayed them in the past."

Lord Alexander smiled, "You are not Head of your Family yet, Harry, you cannot tell me that," he shook his head before he added with a broader smile, "Fortunately, I am happy that Lord James had said the same to me," he shook his head and the smile on his face disappeared, "What makes you think that Hermione Granger is not a tool of the Headmaster to entice you to remain in this backwater place?"

"Sir, she is the niece of one of your officers," Harry complained.

"She is also magical," Lord Alexander replied, "And not just any magical like yourself, she is a student of this school and, no doubt, had been influenced by the Headmaster and his ways, the danger remains," he shook his head before he added, "You actually suspect as much, hence, the reason that you had introduced her to me."

"The mind-reader reports her loyalty to the Golden Throne is not suspect, sir," Harry replied, instantly jumping to the defense of Hermione. He looked uncomfortable before he added, "There is also something about her…," he trailed off.

Lord Alexander shook his head, forcing Harry out of his reverie. The young naval cadet focused his attention toward his liege lord and watched as Lord Alexander said, "You have a mission to fulfill, Harry, and I need not remind you, I hope, of the importance of this operation."

"Yes sir," Harry replied, his face taking a more determined tone. For a few moments, silence descended in the interior of the command vehicle as the two men stared at each other. Harry broke that silence, "Sir," he said, "We have been patrolling the corridors with our wands out in an attempt to detect the item, we had been over the castle twice on all floors including the dungeons, and while we had detected numerous dark items that would probably require a truck or two to haul away, we are yet to even get a wisp of the item that we are searching for."

"It is well hidden, of course," Lord Alexander replied, "if it was not, things would not have been as interesting," and though he said that, it was obvious that the Prince was irritated, whether it was because of the lack of progress or if it was something else, Harry could not be sure.

An irritated sigh escaped from the lips of Lord Alexander and the Prince gave Harry a focused look, "We have Intelligence coming from within the castle," he said, "According to our intelligence, there is a room inside Hogwarts that is the perfect hiding spot in the castle, mostly because the room itself is hidden," he smiled as he stared at Harry, "I would expect that he hid it there."

"Sir, if its hidden…," Harry began.

Lord Alexander reached for a piece of paper that he had placed inside one of the pockets of the tailcoat that he was wearing and handed it to Harry, "Instructions, from intelligence," Lord Alexander replied, he smiled and shook his head, "The eggheads are prepared to bet that this is where the item is, and I had never heard intelligence say something as definitive as 'we are sure of this' before."

Truth to tell, neither had Harry, but he was a first year naval cadet, though if Lord Alexander says it is, then he has to take the word of the commander for it. Harry took the paper that Lord Alexander held for him.

The young naval cadet did not even look at the contents of the paper before he folded it neatly into quarters and tucked it into his pocket, "We would begin our search as soon as possible, sir," Harry said.

Lord Alexander nodded, "Not at least until Monday, though," the Prince replied with an amused smile, and at the questioning look on the face of Harry, the Prince added, "We are going to have a little celebration tonight, Harry, I imagine neither you nor your classmates would be up for much work tomorrow."

**Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Near Inverness**

**Scotland, British Isles, Holy Empire of Britannia**

**October 18, 1995**

The young blonde aristocrat clutched the letter in his hand with a snarl on his face at the same time that his mind told him that this letter could not possible be the work of his father.

Draco Lucius Malfoy fought the urge to growl as he tossed the parchment where the latest letter that was purported to have come from his father was written into the burning fire. For a few moments, Draco watched as the flames consumed the parchment, but he turned his attention away from the slowly disappearing parchment before it could be fully transformed into ash.

'_Draco,'_ his father had written, '_I cannot emphasize this fact well enough, and I do hope that you would listen to this.'_

Normally, that phrase would mean that Draco would take to heart whatever it is that was written on the letter, but this time, it was something that the blond Slytherin Prince could not follow, it was an abhorrence and goes directly against everything his father had taught him since he was young.

'_Do not antagonize the newly arrived muggles at all,'_ his father had told him in response to his earlier query about what should be done against the muggles that are now polluting the school.

Personally, Draco does not see why his father was so afraid of them, so the young Slytherin postulated that the letter must not have came from his father, rather, it had came from some muggle-loving fool, possibly, the biggest muggle-loving fool who is in charge of this school, and it made sense too, seeing that the Headmaster appeared to be afraid of the newly arrived muggles.

A smile came across the face of Draco as he joined his waiting friends – '_though bodyguards would be a more apt term for some of them,'_ Draco thought – at the foyer of the common room. Dinner was going to be served in a few minutes, and if the Headmaster was trying to be a good host, then the muggles would be invited, and it was there where Draco plans to make his move.

He would show Hogwarts how muggles should be treated, and he would earn the respect of everyone in the castle – '_or at least, everyone that really matters,'_ Draco thought to himself with a smile.


	6. Chapter VI

**A/N: **I do not own Harry Potter or anything associated with it.

* * *

**SIX**

**Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Near Inverness**

**Scotland, British Isles, Holy Empire of Britannia**

**October 18, 1995**

Albus fought the urge to sigh as he watched the Prince and his staff leave his office. Lord Alexander did not even spare the Headmaster – or the rest of the staff of Hogwarts, for that matter – a second glance as he offered his hand to his fiancée. She took his offered hand without a word – but with a smile – and he helped her to his feet before they walked out of the room.

The interaction between the Prince of Scotland and the Marchioness of Montana convinced the Headmaster of the depth of the feelings that the two had for each other, but that was not the reason that the Prince had seen fit to send his forces to the school. The Headmaster suspected that there is a reason, but for the life of him, he could not even begin to guess what that reason was.

That sigh that the Headmaster had been holding finally escaped through his lips at the same time that the door to his office closed and the last member of the staff of Lord Alexander walked across the threshold dividing his office with the foyer that leads into his office.

That was the only time that the Headmaster had thought to look into the expressions on the faces of his senior staff and the other members of the teaching staff. The Heads of Houses – with the exemption of Severus, of course – held neutral looks on their faces, but one could not miss the look of worry that was etched upon their visage. Albus knew, however, that the three senior members of his staff could weather through their uncertainties and find their path toward the 'Greater Good'.

It was Severus whom the Headmaster was most worried about. He was sure that if he had not glared at the man while the Prince and his staff were here, Severus would have said something that everyone in the room – _'well, maybe not everyone,'_ the Headmaster thought to himself – would have regretted.

Of course, Albus had to consider the fact that the silent treatment that Lily was giving Severus has more to do with the impromptu silence that the Hogwarts Potions Master was forced in more than the glare that the Headmaster had given the man.

In fact, Albus could have sworn that the Potions Master had tried to go after Lily before the staff of the Prince could leave, but Lord and Lady Potter had left the office behind the Prince and the Marchioness, an indication that the two Potters are part of the Inner Circle of the Prince, and that they are amongst the most trusted of the Prince. A curious Albus wanted to find out how that happened, but he knew that it would be extremely hard to find someone whose lips are loose enough for a stranger to get information.

A good minute or two passed after the Prince and his staff had left before the silence that had descended within the office of the Headmaster – uncomfortable because everyone was waiting for someone else to break the silence – ended. It was Minerva who broke the silence, and she did so with a question that Albus knew he could not afford to answer, but at the same time, he could not ignore, "What secret mission is the Prince talking about, Albus?" she asked in a clipped accent that was an indication that the Scot was close to forgetting that she is speaking with people who would have a hard time dissecting her Gaelic.

The Headmaster turned to face Minerva and he _shrugged_, an action that caused not only Minerva, but also the rest of the teachers in the office – even Severus – to raise their eyebrows in surprise, and as he sat at his rather comfortable chair behind his rather impressive desk, Albus Dumbledore told himself that he could hardly blame them for the looks that they are giving him.

He had just admitted that he had allowed outsiders to go through Hogwarts with the proverbial comb to find something that the Headmaster himself was not sure what. Although Hogwarts was an open school – compared to the likes of Durmstrang Academy who prided itself with the fact that _no one_ could find their location, not even their own students – there are still those who were of the belief that not all the secrets of the school should be shared, especially with outsiders who could not even control magic.

Albus, however, suspected that most of the reason behind the indignation that was being displayed by his staff had something to do with the fact that they do not know what is going on. for all that Minerva and the other professors know, the patrols that Harry and his classmates had set up – after all, the professors and the prefects have caught the cadets patrolling the corridors of the school in two with their wands out, something that brought alarm to the minds of the professors – are mapping expeditions so that when the army moves in, the maze of corridors, rooms, and moving stairs of Hogwarts would not confuse them.

Not that the senior staff are planning on rebelling against the Golden Throne, for all that Albus knows, Minerva, Filius, and Pomona would be the first ones to kneel before the Prince and gives oaths of fealty, something that the professors knew the Prince could demand given the oath that they had all subscribed to before they were allowed to hold positions within the school.

Albus, on the other hand, was not required to give the oath before he became a professor at Hogwarts, but that was mostly because when he became a professor, the French Republic still existed and the Republic still controlled the British Isles. Albus was already Head of Gryffindor – before he became Headmaster – when the Holy Empire of Britannia landed her troops in Cornwall, Wales, and Ireland after they had defeated the French off Cape Finistere. His oath was given _after_ he became a professor, and as such, Albus believed that unlike his relatively younger counterparts, he could go over the oath.

A sly look was given by the Headmaster toward his staff. They were all looking at him, a variety of expressions written on their faces, and with a start, the Headmaster realized that most of his staff – even if given a chance to circumvent the oath – would not challenge the Golden Throne.

Of course, there is one amongst the senior staff who would dare the challenge, but as he turned his attention toward his potions master – still in shock, though whether it was because of the fact that Lily ignored him or because the Headmaster glared at him, Albus could not be sure – the Headmaster worried if he could truly ever count on Severus Snape.

The man would probably be the intellectual equal of Albus someday, that much, the Headmaster knew. In fact, in terms of potions theory and defense against the dark arts theory, Severus probably had already surpassed him, but his seeming contempt for the other subjects – transfiguration and charms the most – and the reason that he had joined the Death Eaters in the first place – leading to a unique situation for both him and the Headmaster – could count against his budding mind. The prejudice of Severus would limit him in his search for knowledge and the Headmaster was not sure if he could instruct the man _out_ of that dark place.

"Headmaster," the formal – cold and distant – voice of his Deputy Headmistress tore the Headmaster out of his reverie. He forced himself to return to the present and instantly wished that he was not as eager to do that as he was, because the moment that he returned to the presented, he was confronted by the sight of an angry Minerva glaring at him.

Minerva McGonagall was not a woman that even the Headmaster would dare cross on any regular day, but in days like these when she personified the angry mascot of her house, it was even more so. The self-declared Leader of the Light and one of the most powerful mages in the history of Magical Britain – possibly even the world – actually cringed at the sight of his deputy glaring at him, but even the glare of Minerva was not enough to prevent her from asking the question that Albus knew she wanted to ask, "Is what they are doing safe for our students?" she asked.

Albus wanted to reply in the negative even if he truly thinks that whatever it is that Harry Potter and his classmates are up to would not result to danger for the students. Mostly, the Headmaster wanted to see how Minerva would react to the Headmaster replying in the negative, and Albus had to admit that he was prepared to bet that the Deputy Headmistress would charge Harry – and his classmates – if Albus would answer in the negative.

The Headmaster declined to answer in the negative, however, because he was aware that doing so would not be good for his reputation. More importantly, while she and the Headmaster do not see eye to eye in many things, Minerva is still a powerful witch who is a member of the Order and the real administrative head of the school. If Minerva was gone – and charging ten cadets in the middle of an army would be a good way of making her disappear – then all that administrative work would fall on the shoulders of the Headmaster, thus, preventing him from paying attention to far more important pursuits.

"Well, Headmaster?" this time, it was Filius Flitwick who asked the question. Once more, Albus wondered how similar yet dissimilar the two most senior members of the teaching staff could be. Whatever it is that Minerva is championing, Filius would most likely be beside her in championing it. There are only a handful of instances in the past when the two head of houses had disagreements in policy or otherwise.

"I do not think that whatever it is that the naval cadets are up to would result to danger to our students," the Headmaster replied easily, using a tone of voice that the Headmaster expected would shoot down all other dissenting opinion, "Harry Potter and his classmates are members of the Imperial Navy, despite the fact that they are just cadets, they are bound to protect the citizens of the Holy Empire and our students – and ourselves – are citizens of the Holy Empire."

The Headmaster was sorely disappointed when he realized that there was a dissenting opinion amongst his staff, though it came not from the source that he was expecting. The sour-faced Potions Master of Hogwarts was finally torn out of his reverie by the last words that Albus had said, and the former Death Eater was not shy in voicing his opinion, "We should drive them out, Headmaster," he said, apparently unaware – or rather, uncaring – of the fact that even suggesting that would see him arrested, "We are far more powerful than them, we do not need them, even if what they are doing is supposed to protect the castle."

The shocked looks on the faces of the rest of the staff told the Headmaster what they thought of the suggestion of Severus Snape without the staff needing to voice their concerns. Minerva, however, looked ready to do so, if not for the Headmaster raising his hand and motioning for her to stop. Even then, Minerva looked ready to rebel against the command of the Headmaster, but in the end, she swallowed whatever it was that she wanted to say and inclined her head toward the Headmaster.

"Severus," the Headmaster said, forcing the potions master to turn his attention toward the Headmaster. Professor Snape saw the disapproving look on the face of the Headmaster, but he also saw the calculating face of the Headmaster and Professor Snape instantly realized that the Headmaster was planning something.

Exactly what that something is, the potions master does not know, but the fact that the Headmaster had seen fit to allow him to see told Severus that whatever it was that the Headmaster was planning, he was going to play a part in it. Hopeful that it would expel the muggles and the mudbloods from the school, Severus held his tongue and allowed a neutral expression to come across his face.

"I think that this ought to conclude our meeting for tonight, save for you, Severus, I want to speak with you," the Headmaster said, much to the shock of the staff who had expected the Headmaster to public dress down the potions master. The times when the Headmaster had publicly scolded Severus Snape – one of the youngest professors inside the castle – was few, far between, and could be counted on one hand with four fingers to spare. In fact, most of the staff believed that the Headmaster and the Potions Master are in a relationship, and given the particular preference of the Headmaster, that might not be too far off the mark.

Of course, that meant that whenever Severus and Albus are going to be alone in a room, most of the professors could not find an excuse to leave fast enough, and right now, they are just glad that the Headmaster had dismissed them because none of them are in any mood to think of a reason to leave.

Albus and Severus watched in relative silence as the other professors left the office. Only once everyone was out of earshot did the Potions master turn toward the Headmaster, but Albus was already one step ahead of his former student and was already staring at him. Quite frankly, the stare that the Headmaster was giving Severus scared the crap out of him.

"You know, they are of the opinion that we are in a romantic relationship," the Headmaster began. He noted that Severus actually stepped back despite the neutral expression on his face – no doubt brought about by his extra powerful set of mind shields – before the Headmaster laughed and said, "Don't worry, Severus, you're not my type."

The potions master looked at the Headmaster for a few moments – he actually thought about asking the Headmaster what his type was, but he decided that that was irrelevant to the reason that the Headmaster had asked for him here – before he nodded. He was going to remain silent until after the Headmaster had said the reason that he was not dismissed with the rest of the staff, but the silent treatment that the Headmaster gave him right after the last words that came out of his mouth unnerved Severus enough to be the one to break the silence.

"Headmaster," he began, "For what reason had you asked of me to stay behind?"

The Headmaster looked at his potions master for a few moments, and once more, silence descended between them. The Headmaster had to admit that he was being deliberate with the silent treatment because he wanted to see how long Severus could hold not speaking – and comparing it with how long he would not speak if it was Lily who was giving him the silent treatment – but barely thirty seconds had passed before the potions master started to show signs that he was getting agitated.

The Headmaster realized that the temper of his potions professor was about to run out, and with that in mind, he decided to break the silence, "I want your opinion on the matters that we are facing, Severus," he said.

Professor Snape sneered, "I do not think that there is a need for me to tell you of my opinion on the matter, sir," he replied, "I've made my opinions on the matter clear enough."

"Indeed you have," the Headmaster replied, and for theatrical purposes, he made himself sound disappointed, though he was sure that Severus had seen through the parlor tricks, after all, the man is an expert in legilimancy as much as he is in occulumency, and though the Potions Master could not break the shield of the Headmaster, he could, at least, tell the general feeling of the Headmaster.

"Mixing the muggles with our people would not result to anything good, sir," Professor Snape said, he turned his attention away from the Headmaster and toward the window in the office, one that – whether intentional or not on the part of the muggles, it does not matter – showed the Headmaster the impromptu camp site of the muggle army, "Already, they are encroaching upon our territory, you know that this would only lead to more problems for us."

The Headmaster fought the urge to sigh. He realized what his potions professor was trying to do with the very first sentence that came out of his mouth. Severus was rehashing the arguments that the original framers of the Statute of Secrecy had used in pushing for the statute. It was an old argument that, personally, the Headmaster thought was flimsy, but had worked on the governing body of magicals during their time. Evidently, Severus was of the opinion that it could still work, albeit on a different generation.

"We have sworn Oath, Severus," the Headmaster reminded his potions professor. It was the hope of the Headmaster that Severus would volunteer to do that which the Headmaster wanted him to do, instead of the Headmaster having to outright inform Severus that he wished for the potions master to re-examine the wording of the oath and try to find a loophole that they could exploit.

"The Oath says that we are to follow the Golden Throne, so long as certain conditions are met, Headmaster," Severus reminded the Headmaster. Personally, the Headmaster could not remember there being conditions, but before he could say that, Severus continued, "Magical Oaths are conditioned upon give and take, Headmaster, I could be wrong, but I am almost certain that in exchange for the oath, the muggles would leave us alone to govern our world, and this," – he motioned toward where the muggle army was encamped – "is a sign that they are encroaching upon our world, violating their oath."

"Why haven't they fallen dead, then?" the Headmaster asked as a test. He, of course, knew the reason why the muggles had not fallen dead, but he was not about to let his former student off the hook that easily.

"They're not magical, Headmaster," Severus replied easily, and because he was pacing, he missed the slight smile that appeared on the face of the Headmaster, a smile that appeared there because Severus got the answer in one.

"This requires further thinking, Severus," the Headmaster said, and in truth, it did require much thinking. For one thing, the Headmaster was not sure if he truly wishes to go against the wishes of the Empress of Britannia. That concern was probably least, however, because his most important concern was the accuracy of the arguments of Severus, it was something that the Headmaster would have to see for himself.

The scowl on the face of his potions master forced the Headmaster to return to the present, and before Professor Snape could say anything, the Headmaster said, "Develop on this further, if you could, Severus," he said, "but in the meantime, we should keep this in the backburner," a theatrical sigh – again, one that did not fool the potions master – escaped through the lips of the Headmaster before he added, "We need to consider all of our actions before we make them, Severus, as I had tried to teach you before numerous times."

The potions master glared at the Headmaster for a few moments. It was obvious that he wanted to say something in response to what the Headmaster had said, but at the same time that he opened his mouth to do so, he seemed to realize that it would be for the best if he were to keep his mouth shut, so that was what he did. Instead of pushing words out of his mouth, the potions master merely nodded.

**Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Near Inverness**

**Scotland, British Isles, Holy Empire of Britannia**

**October 18, 1995**

Harry and Hermione watched in silence Lord Alexander walked away before he turned toward her with a look that clearly said that he was sorry that he had to leave her. He gave the hand that he held on his own one final squeeze that told her that he would be back as soon as he could manage it before he – obviously reluctantly – allowed her hand to fall from his.

He did not look at her before he followed after his liege lord, but Hermione could understand that, since she also did not want to look at him as he left the tent where the two of them had been waiting since the welcome parade ended a few hours ago on their own. Hermione was sure that there would be a disappointed look on her face and that was something that she does not want Harry to see.

For a few moments, there was silence inside the tent. Hermione continued to stare at the flap of the tent that Harry and his liege lord had used and because of that, she failed to notice that while Lord Alexander and Harry have walked out of the tent, and while most of the staff members of Lord Alexander had also left, two people remained inside the room, in the form of the Count and Countess of Lisbourne.

James and Lily looked at each other for a few moments, a silent communication passed between the two of them during which time they informed the other that they could not believe that their son would introduce a girl to Lord Alexander – both believed that Harry would _after_ he graduates from the Academy, because essentially, what Harry just did was to inform the Prince that there is a chance that Hermione would someday stand beside him before an altar, one after all, does not introduce a girl to one's liege lord without consequences, whether intended to or not.

After a few moments – during which time, Hermione continued to stare at the flap of the tent – James gave his wife a shrug before he subtly shook his head. Lily shot James a look of incredulity for a few moments, but that look was quickly replaced with an amused smile, a smile that remained on her face as she watched her husband figuratively throw in the towel and walk out of the tent the same way that they had came in.

Once her husband was out of the tent, Lily returned her attention toward the young girl – '_no, young woman, she is going to take her OWL's this school year, and in the magical world, that was all that was needed to be considered an adult even if they don't emancipate them till they are seventeen,'_ Lily thought to herself, mentally scoffing at the absurdness of the magical system – and noted that she was still staring at the tent flap that Harry and Lord Alexander had used.

For a few moments, Lily wondered exactly how long Hermione – she remembered her name because Harry had introduced them this morning – would continue to stare at the flap, but because she knew that she does not have all the time in the world, Lily pointedly cleared her throat.

That was all that was needed to inform Hermione that she was not alone inside the tent, and the young woman turned her attention toward the source of the sound that had disturbed her melancholy only to find the smiling face of the mother of the person that she was being melancholic about staring at her. Hermione had the good grace to blush, but it only brought a smile to the face of Lily.

"You've been staring at that direction since they left," Lily began with a smile. Somehow, the smile on her face did nothing to assuage the growing sense of dread that was forming inside Hermione; on the contrary, it seemed to stroke it more.

Lily seemed to sense this, if the next words that came out of her mouth were to be of any indication, "Don't worry Hermione," the Potter matriarch said, "I won't bite you."

Hermione nodded in response at the same time that she found herself surprised that she was actually acting like a stuttering teenager, minus the stutters, of course. She had, after all, managed to out-speak almost all of her professors; yet, here is this one woman whom Hermione found so intimidating, she was reduced to merely nodding her head in response.

"Would you care to sit?" Lily asked as she took a seat. Hermione stared at her for a few moments before she nodded and resumed her seat, taking the exact seat where she and Harry had sat as they waited for the meeting with the Headmaster to end.

Once she was seated, Lily let out a smile of triumph before she pounced – figuratively – on the young woman that was seated beside her, "Tell me about yourself, Hermione," Lily said, a subtle command, perhaps, but a command nonetheless.

Hermione stared at Lily, unsure of what to say in response to the question that the Countess had asked. It was a question that she had not answered in so many years and one that had not been asked of her since she came into the magical world. Her actions – and her reputation – had always answered this question without the need for anyone to ask her the question directly, and therein lies her dilemma.

Exactly what should she tell Lily about herself?

As with everything, Lily seemed to sense the turmoil that was brewing inside the young woman seated beside her. In truth, Lily had asked the question as a way to break the ice that seemed to have descended between her and Hermione. It was, admittedly, a prologue to Lily asking leading questions that would allow the countess to ascertain exactly where the loyalty of Hermione lies.

Lily was well aware that a mind-reader had subtly looked into the mind of Hermione this afternoon, but that report would not be available for her until after Lord Alexander had seen it, and Lily sincerely doubts that her liege lord had asked for her son to discuss that report, at least, not in its entirety.

"I don't know what to say," Hermione said a few moments later, an action that forced Lily out of her reverie. Now firmly in the present, Lily stared at Hermione for a few moments, though before Lily could say anything, Hermione continued, "I've always let my reputation answer that question for me."

Lily would not say it, but she was well aware of the reputation of Hermione, and unlike most of the classmates of Hermione, Lily had access to the muggle files of Hermione, or at least, those parts of it that were not classified as part of the National Security Act. The files of the young woman that was seated beside Lily had been placed under the umbrella of the National Security Act because her father was part of the Imperial Navy.

Lily, however, decided to focus on the reputation of Hermione as a student. The Countess knew that Hermione is the top student of her year, with a weighted average that was a good eight points higher than the weighted average of the number two of her year – strangely, a Slytherin named Daphne Greengrass. Lily also knew that Hermione had a contradicting reputation amongst the different groups within the school.

Her year mates and upperclassmen view her as a pain and unapproachable, but the younger ones – specially the first years – view her as very approachable and always ready to help, or at least, until after those people had been corrupted by the upper-class who spin tales about Hermione. It was little wonder that while Hermione has a lot of casual acquaintances in the school, she has very few – if any – friends amongst the rank and file of students.

As for the professors, they all like Hermione, but most of them are intimidated by the muggle-born student who already looked dead set to best them at their own game. Lily had it in good authority that Hermione is already performing transfiguration and charm work that was equal – if not superior – to that of Minerva McGonagall and Filius Flitwick, the transfiguration mistress and the charms master of Hogwarts respectively. It was these same two professors who are full of praise for the young muggle-born.

A small smile graced the face of Lily at that when she finally realized who the person that Hermione reminded her of. With her academic record, her tenacity, and the fact that she prefers to help the younger students rather than her own classmates, Lily realized that Hermione Granger reminded her of herself.

That small smile on the face of Lily broadened as she realized that she had to add one more thing about Hermione that reminded Lily of herself, _'the fact that she is attracted to a Potter,'_ the Countess mused to herself.

"You are probably well aware of my reputation, already," Hermione said a few moments later. Her tone was neutral, as if she could not decide if Lily would find her reputation as a count against her or a count for her. Quite frankly, Lily does not care, so long as her son is happy, and the Countess would be the first to admit that Harry appears to be happy whenever he is with Hermione, or at least, as far as she could see. Lily knew that he would have to talk to Harry about his later, but for now, she is going to reserve judging Hermione based on her reputation, after all, as a lawyer, that is not her job.

"Indeed, I am," Lily replied a few moments later. An uncomfortable silence descended between the two, but that silence was quickly broken by Lily, "Tell me about your family, Hermione," she said, "I find it curious that while your uncle – Admiral Richard Granger – continued his career with the navy, your father opted not to."

Hermione blinked, "I'm sorry, do you not have the records for that?" she asked curiously. It was not meant to be an offhanded comment to signify that she does not want to talk about that, it was an honest question, despite the way that it was delivered, and Lily knew that.

"I don't," the Countess replied truthfully, and before Hermione could say anything, Lily continued, "I am still a civilian, as is my husband, your father's service files are only available to members of the military," she grinned before she asked, "Are you aware that he was with Special Forces? After all, that is the only logical explanation why his file was sealed."

Hermione shook her head, "My mother told me that he was with the Imperial Navy before they met, not what he did there," the young woman replied, "I'm sorry, I can't,"

"That's alright," Lily replied, she paused for a few moments before she asked, "Tell me about your plans for the future."

Hermione blinked, "My Lady, I..," Hermione began.

Lily cut her off, "I'm not asking because I want to see if you and my son could have a connection," she shook her head for emphasis and added, "Quite frankly, Hermione, I think you and Harry have a connection, one that you are both aware exists yet refuse to act upon," Hermione looked ready to protest, but before the younger woman could open her mouth, Lily motioned for her to stand down, "I think it's good that the two of you are not acting like love struck teenagers that we both know the two of you are capable of being, because quite frankly, we are not sure what that connection between you and Harry is, it could be nothing more but a connection of friendship, or it could be something else" – Lily smiled, she remembered _exactly_ the feeling that she is sure both her son and Hermione are experiencing right now, and with that, the Countess realized that there is another thing that she and Hermione shared.

"I…," Hermione began, momentarily mentally cursing herself for having failed to come up with something better than the stutter that came out of her mouth.

Lily once more motioned for Hermione to allow her to speak, and the younger woman had no choice – mostly because she could not think of anything to say – but to allow Lily to proceed, "I asked about your future plans because I want to know if you are aware of the roads that are open to you after you graduate."

"I don't understand," Hermione began.

"The discrimination today is no longer as bad as it was when I graduated Hogwarts, Hermione," Lily replied by way of explanation, a sigh escaped through the lips of the Countess of Lisbourne and she elaborated, "There was a time when even the best student from Hogwarts – Head Girl, highest NEWT's score in more than a hundred years, and all that – could not even get a post in the Ministry higher than a secretary to a man who barely passed his OWL's because she was born in the wrong side of the tracks."

Hermione blinked as she instantly realized who the person Lily was talking about was, but before she could say anything, Lily continued, "It didn't really matter to me anyway, I married the man of my dreams and had my family," he actually smiled before she continued, "Having Voldemort come after us was terrifying, but was probably the best thing that had happened to our lives, after all, we left the magical world and entered the non-magical world thanks to him."

Hermione looked surprised at that statement, something that Lily, admittedly, had expected. The smile on the face of Lily broadened before she said, "I would not be Countess of Lisbourne if I had not entered the non-magical world, I would not have finished my degree in English or law," – here, Hermione gasped, and Lily knew it was because the younger girl had not thought that it was possible for a magical educated in the magical world to be able to continue non-magical education, though as things stand, in _this_ magical world, it is impossible – "and I most certainly would not be alive."

"Tell me, how do they say we killed the 'greatest, most powerful, and most terrible Dark Lord to ever walk the face of the earth'?" Lily asked, the humor in his voice evident, and all that Hermione needed to hear in order to realize that Lily – and Hermione suspected, Lord James as well, possibly even Harry – was amused by the title that was given to Voldemort. It was something that Hermione agreed with, though it was something that she dare not voice out loud.

"The official historical account says that you defeated him with ancient and powerful magic based on love and sacrifice," Hermione replied, "A love-based ritual that drove the soul of You-Know-Who from his body and turned his physical body into ash."

"No explanation at all? No details about the ritual?" Lily asked with a smile that told Hermione that the older woman was having fun. For the life of Hermione, though, she could not see why Lily was having so much fun with this.

Hermione shook her head, "None, the details are completely glossed over," she replied, "I suppose it was to prevent everyone else from doing it, but then again, I would have included the details since it's supposed to be a light based ritual of protection."

Lily smiled, "Hermione, I know that you've been taking up runes, so answer this, how long would it take for me to carve a simple rune in a marble tile, at the same time that we are under attack?" she asked.

"Probably a minute, certainly no less than that," Hermione replied instantly, "but you could have prepared the rune even before he arrived," Hermione pointed out.

"I suppose I could have," Lily replied, but she shook her head and pointed out, "We were in hiding though, and we are behind powerful wards, we did not expect Voldemort to be able to find us," she shook her head once more, "The truth of the matter is, Hermione, James killed Voldemort with a simple bullet to the head."

"But the reports…," Hermione began, though she stopped herself as she realized that the reporters who had made the report and whose accounts had made it into the official history books were not there when the event occurred. She was speaking with a person who was not only there when it happened, she is the reason that it happened.

This narration also told Hermione the reason that James and Lily had fled the magical world right after they had defeated the Dark Lord. Hermione was aware that it was highly illegal for a magical to kill another with a muggle weapon, it was the law now, it was the law then – though personally, Hermione saw little sense in it – and despite the fact that they had killed the dark lord and ended his reign of terror, Hermione realized that the Ministry would have counted the fact that James had used a gun against the Potter family.

"I won't bore you with the details of how we came to serve the Duke of New York," Lily said, she smiled before she added in response to the confused look on the face of Hermione, "Lord Alexander was just Duke of New York when we first came over to the non-magical world."

"Why are you telling me this?" Hermione asked a few moments later, genuine curiosity in her eyes.

Lily sighed, "You could take the path that I've taken Hermione," Lily replied, "I admit, Her Grace, the Marchioness had asked me to look for people within Hogwarts that we could possibly recruit, and your name came up at the top of the list," she smiled and added, "the fact that you and my son have a connection has nothing to do with this," she assured him.

Hermione paused for a few moments and realized that she was weighing her choices. The smart young woman could not deny what she wants to do – the moment that Lily told her about the fact that she had gone through university and had earned a degree, Hermione would have turned green with envy if she could – but she needs to be sure, "Can I," she began, she turned her attention toward Lily and asked, "Can I think about it?"

Lily smiled at her, "Of course you can," she replied, sounding positively ecstatic that that was the option that Hermione had chosen, but before Hermione could ask for the reason, Lily volunteered it, "The way that the magical world operates right now, Hermione, it is expected of you to not think, after all, why else would they force structured spells and wand movements when it is possible to perform magic without resorting to them?"

**Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Near Inverness**

**Scotland, British Isles, Holy Empire of Britannia**

**October 18, 1995**

The Great Hall of Hogwarts was in a festive mood, even if a full third of the students that are currently inside the Great Hall looked as if they had swallowed a bug whole.

The traditional colors of the Four Houses of Hogwarts that hung from the pillars that supported the ceiling of the Great Hall – and its world famous view of the outside sky – had been replaced by the colors of the Holy Empire of Britannia. Every pillar in the Great Hall sported at least two of the flags, and behind the long table that serves as the table for the professors, a giant Britannian flag had been raised by the Britannian sailors that had accompanied the mission.

Seated at his usual position at the center of the table reserved for the professors, the Headmaster tried to present a jovial mood for the students, but deep inside, the Headmaster was worried. The muggle-born students under his care appear to be ecstatic with the presence of the Imperial Army, and the Prince of Scotland, while quite a few of the half-bloods were with them. The rest of the student population appears to be barely keeping their contempt in control.

For a few moments, the Headmaster wondered if the Prince of Scotland was aware that his appearance had polarized the students of Hogwarts, before he belatedly realized that with the intelligence of the man – there are rumors that the Empress would have Lord Alexander succeed her because of that intelligence – Lord Alexander is surely aware of what his presence is doing for the children.

The sound of laughter that came from a muggle-born group within the Hufflepuff table tore the Headmaster out of his reverie, but it was not toward the Hufflepuff table that the Headmaster had turned his attention; rather, it was toward the table right next to the Hufflepuff table, the Slytherin table.

As the Headmaster had expected, several of the students seated at that table looked at the celebrating Huffepuffs with barely disguised contempt, and the Headmaster visibly fought the urge to sigh. The situation inside the school was so bad right now; the Headmaster was expecting a brawl to erupt at any time. The Headmaster wondered if that was the reason that the army had been sent here – after all, with disturbances like that, an excuse to send in the soldiers could be easily found – but easily dismissed it, not because it was unlikely, but because there was nothing that he could do about it anyway.

The Headmaster turned his attention toward his potions professor with the intention of gauging exactly what Professor Snape felt at that moment, had it not been for a group of Slytherin students suddenly entering the Great Hall. That would not have been unusual, had it not been for the saunter that Draco Malfoy and his group of Slytherins had entered.

Albus may have problems with the son of Lucius Malfoy but he could not deny the leadership ability of the young blond. In less than a year, Draco had united his classmates under his banner and was well on his way to uniting his whole house by his second year, had it not been for an unfortunate incident that nearly saw the boy shunned by the whole school. Nowadays, while unable to command the respect that he truly craved, the boy still has the support of his Slytherin classmates.

Draco walked into the hall as if he owned it, and in his mind, Albus was sure that the boy was of the opinion that his family owns the Great Hall. A part of the mind of the Headmaster wondered what would happen should the Malfoy heir directly challenge the Prince of Scotland, but the greater part of the mind of the Headmaster prayed that that would not happen, because if it did, the Headmaster was sure that things would turn out for the worst.

Unfortunately for the Headmaster, that was exactly what happened.

A mere ten seconds after Draco walked into the Hall – and while the boy and his group was still making their way to their table – every muggle-born inside the room stood. At first, the Headmaster thought that it was a prank, then it was in response to some unseen signal, and in less than a second, the Headmaster was proven right.

Lord Alexander walked into the Great Hall arm in arm with his fiancée who was laughing at something that the Prince had said. Behind the Duke, his principal advisors followed, dressed in their most formal, but all of his military staff – including some people whom the Headmaster had not met before – are armed, and as if that was not insult enough, they are armed with firearms.

As the Prince and his contingent walked into their position – their table was placed behind the table of the professors and in a higher dais, reflecting the fact that the Prince is higher than the Headmaster who could not even complain because Hogwarts herself placed the table there – the Headmaster realized that he had forgotten that Draco Malfoy and his friends are still standing.

The Headmaster – indeed, most of his staff who realized that the Malfoy boy was still standing – turned their attention toward the direction of Lord Alexander at the same time that they found themselves praying that Draco Malfoy would not cause an incident. Their prayers were in vain.

With a saunter, Draco walked toward the Prince of Scotland – he was stupid enough to actually abandon his bodyguards – until he stood in front of the Prince. The taller prince stared at the fifteen year old with an expression on his face that was half-amused, half-uncaring, and seemed to convey the message to everyone – everyone not named Draco Malfoy that is – that the Prince does not really care about the person that had just intercepted him.

"I'm not sure how it works your world, but in our world, its illegal to carry guns," Draco replied, his tone suggesting that he was lecturing a muggle who does not know anything about the magical world.

If the Headmaster did not think that it would demean his reputation, he would have smacked himself on the face the moment that the Slytherin prince opened his mouth. As it stands, the Headmaster knew that he could not afford to remove his attention from Draco Malfoy because if he did, then the boy might suddenly disappear.

The Prince, however, merely smiled at the boy – and the smile was so devoid of contempt and warmth that it was impossible for anyone to misinterpret it as anything but contempt – before he said, "I would remember that the next time that I meet with parliament," before he turned his attention away from the boy and resumed his walk toward his position.

The Headmaster let out a sigh of relief – and if he was being honest with himself, he knew that he was not the only one – as the Prince started to walk away from the Slytherin prince, obviously of the opinion that the confrontation was over.

Draco, however, was not one to back away from things, and unfortunately for him, while his charisma was undeniable, so was his temper, and with the perceived insult – the fact that Lord Alexander showed his back to him – was more than his ego could take. Without really thinking about it, he quickly drew his wand. His quick motion, however, was not as quick as he liked to think, because his friend and bodyguard – Gregory Goyle – actually managed to draw his wand faster than Draco.

Without direction from his boss, the young Slytherin – who was probably dead last in his year – pointed his wand toward the direction of Lady Emma – probably because he thought that Draco had his wand aimed at the Prince – and was about to fire a curse – exactly what the curse is would be hard to ascertain – when James Potter – who was keeping watch – jumped into the fray.

Lord James saw that the intended target of the confirmed threat was Lady Emma so he threw himself toward her, not with the intention of shielding her from whatever curse it was that the threat wanted to throw at the back of the Marchioness, but rather, to move her out of the line. It was the sensible choice because Lord James stood at the right side of Lady Emma while Lord Alexander was at her left. His move caused him to crash into both Lord Alexander and Lady Emma, forcing the two into the floor at the same time that a green bolt of light erupted from the business end of the wand of Gregory Goyle.

Exactly what the curse was, however, would not be known because a second or two after the move of Lord James, Vice Admiral Cline had drawn his service sidearm and had it aimed. With calmness that could only be brought about by years of training – Vice Admiral Cline is a qualified naval sniper – the chief of staff of Lord Alexander pulled the trigger, sending a single bullet flying off the barrel of his pistol. It took less than two seconds – with the distances involved – before the bullet tore a neat hole in the forehead of Gregory Goyle, but the unfortunate did not have the time – or the inclination really – to comment on how perfect the whole on his forehead was, he was long gone by the time his body hit the floor.

A shocked silence descended along the ranks within the Great Hall, but it was the Headmaster who first recovered. Shocked and angry, the Headmaster started to reach for his wand – and using his peripheral vision – he saw the Professor Snape was just behind him in doing so, but before either man could truly pull their wands out of their sleeves, the whole of the Great Hall was flooded as men wearing camouflage and totting rifles flooded into the room, their weapons pointed toward the direction of the staff table. The fact that there are close to fifteen hundred children between their position and their targets did not even cross their minds.


	7. Chapter VII

**A/N: **I do not own Harry Potter or anything associated with it.

* * *

**SEVEN**

**Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Near Inverness**

**Scotland, British Isles, Holy Empire of Britannia**

**October 18, 1995**

The sound of the pistol being fired echoed around the four corners of the Great Hall, and for a few moments, there was no other sound that reverberated around the room but the sound of the gun having been fired.

The loud bang seemed to have drowned out the sickly sound of the heavy body of Gregory Goyle hitting the floor, and very few – if there were indeed those who did – heard the sound of a mass hitting a liquid as the earthly remains of a young student hit a pool of his own blood.

Suddenly, there was a flurry of sounds as what had happened finally registered in the minds of those who were watching. The party of the prince – having been aware of what was happening, even if only vaguely – was the first to recover. Lord Alexander turned his attention toward his chief-of-staff at the same time that the second collective within the Great Hall realized what had just happened.

Almost as quick as lightning, Headmaster Dumbledore shot to his feet, his face an enraged mask as he realized that one of the students that was supposed to be under his care had been killed – so effortlessly, if a bit messier than he is used to – in front of his eyes. His legendary wand shot to his hand at the same time that he stood, and at the same time that his Deputy Headmistress took to her own feet.

Minerva McGonagall might not like Gregory Goyle that much – and she was a supporter of the Royal Party if only just – but it was still part of her duties and responsibilities to see to the safety of the students under her care. That one of them had been killed under her watch – indeed, in front of her – galvanized her into action.

The third group to realize what had happened was one of the largest groups within the Great Hall, and the moment that they realized what had happened, they were enraged, though that was hardly surprising considering that the now dead boy was – even if they had wished otherwise – their classmate.

Almost as one, the students who occupied the Slytherin table shot to their feet, their wands already on their hands. Their Head of House – who was at the Staff table in front of the Great Hall – was just a moment or two slower than his house, but Severus Sanpe was faster than his students in aiming his wand at the direction of the Royal Party.

A curse was about to pass through the lips of the potions master as he gathered his power, but before he could do so, he suddenly had to drop his wand as the wood suddenly became impossibly hot for him to hold in his hands.

For a few moments, he thought that it had something o do with his power – after all, he was so enraged, and it had been proven that being in rage helps double the power of a magical person, and such increase is reflected upon the temperature of the wand, the more powerful a person is, the higher the temperature of the wand becomes as it is forced to take in the excess power in the form of heat – but he was forced to renew his opinion when the yelps of pain started to come from his house table.

Both the potions master and the headmaster turned their attention toward the newest source of noise within the Great Hall, and saw what was happening. Their reactions could not have been any different from each other.

The potions master sneered at the sight of his Slytherin students dropping their wands as they became too hot for their hands. Clearly, Severus was of the opinion that the righteous anger of his students at witnessing the murder of their classmate was proving a catalyst, and they are throwing power around, hence, the reason why their wands are becoming hot.

The Headmaster, however, realized what was happening at the sight of so many borderline squibs – he would not admit it in front of anyone, not even his most trusted Severus Snape who was head of Slytherin, that the snakes have the lowest average magical index in the school – dropping their wands. He may have formed the same opinion as his potions master if they are watching the Gryffindors, the Ravenclaws, or the Hufflepuffs – the last of whom have, surprisingly, the highest average magical index in the school – but not the borderline squibs.

The fact that Albus himself had to drop his legendary Elder Wand as it became hot seem to make up the mind of the Headmaster as to what was happening, and the realization of it caused the already pale Headmaster – after witnessing the murder of one of his students – to pale even further.

A huff of wind that seems to have come from nowhere blew into the Great Hall of Hogwarts, but there are those who did not feel the wind. Specifically, those who had not shot to their feet in reaction to what had happened did not feel the powerful gust that came out of nowhere. For those who had shot to their feet, however, the gust was as powerful as the winds of a category five storm – not that many of those who are actually standing up could have known what that meant.

The powerful wind caused the knees of the Headmaster to buckle as he felt the power that marinated the very essence of the mysterious wind. Still, Albus Dumbledore remained on his feet even as the students of Slytherin were – one by one – forced back to their seats, despite the fact that most of them are actually resisting, if the looks on their faces were to be of any indication.

Severus was quickly forced into his seat a few moments later, and Minerva followed at the same time that the last of the Slytherin students lost their battle with the wind and was forced back to their seats. The Headmaster retained his footing for a good twenty seconds after his Deputy was forced to submit, but eventually, even the self-declared Leader of the Light had to submit to this power.

As for the students who were with Gregory Goyle, the fact that they were away from their seats did not spare them from the wind. In fact, the wind humbled them further as they were forced on their knees. The fact that the dead body of their classmate was still where it had fallen served as a reminder of their further humility.

Unable to provide an explanation that would satisfy him – at least to himself – as to the source of the wind that had forced them back to a position of relative helplessness, the Headmaster seethed. He turned his attention toward the royal party, and his anger intensified when he realized that not only was the Prince and his party unaffected by the wind, the look on their faces seemed to convey the fact that the prince expected the wind to come.

Suddenly, the eyes of the Headmaster widened at the implication. If the Prince was aware that the wind was coming, then it stands to reason that it was the prince who had summoned the wind in the first place. The prince, as far as Dumbledore was aware, was not magical, and though there are those who are magical amongst his party – James and Lily notwithstanding – the Headmaster was sure that none of those have summoned the wind.

That only left one logical explanation and it tied in with what the Headmaster had seen a few moments before the wind forced him to submit. Lord Alexander might not be magical, but he was of royal blood and because he was of royal blood, he has command of something far more powerful than the magic of the professors of Hogwarts – Dumbledore included – combined. The Prince had the power to invoke the oath.

As if that was not humiliating and humbling enough, a few moments later, the doors of the Great Hall burst open as muggle soldiers flooded the room, their assault rifles pointed toward the students and the professors as they formed a semi circle around their prince and his party. The grim looks on the faces of the soldiers told the Headmaster that while what they would do would cause them nightmares in the evenings to come, they would still do it in order to protect their prince.

The Headmaster tried to open his mouth and reassert his authority, but the same power that caused him to helplessness was still working its magic on him. He might be able to open his mouth, but no words came out of them no matter how hard he tried, and it took him less than five tries to realize that he was powerless and he may soon witness the massacre of his students.

Fortunately for him, Lord Alexander did not have that in mind. The Prince studied the fallen body of Gregory Goyle for a few moments before he turned his attention toward the soldiers that had flooded the room, "Stand down," he ordered in a sure voice, and though there were looks of hesitation and doubt amongst some of the soldiers, they followed the order, lowering their rifles and considerably lessening the tension within the Great Hall.

If the Headmaster had expected the Prince to turn his attention toward him after giving the command to his soldiers – to apologize for what had happened – he was sorely disappointed as the Prince turned his attention toward his chief-of-staff.

Vice Admiral Cline still held his service pistol on his hand and though the barrel was no longer smoking, the fact that it was out of its holster was a message directed toward everyone inside the Great Hall, Vice Admiral Cline is ready to use his pistol once more, and this time, he would not be alone as he is now joined by the muggle soldiers who had flooded the Great Hall.

"Stand down, Vice Admiral Cline," Lord Alexander ordered. Vice Admiral Cline did not show any external sign of having heard his commander, but the older man holstered his weapon, though he did it in such a way that it conveyed the fact that he would draw if needed, and that he does not trust anyone in the Great Hall that does not wear the flag of the Holy Empire on his shoulder.

"It seems that I owe you another lifetime, Lord James," Lord Alexander said as he extended his hand toward Lord James. The Viscount accepted the offered hand of the Prince and was helped to his feet by the man who had offered his hand, "And my Lady Emma, as well."

Lady Emma was helped to her feet by Lily. The Marchioness gave a nod of thanks to Lily before she gave Lord James a smile indicating that she agreed with what her betrothed had said, though that was hardly surprising as there had never been – not a one – instance where Lady Emma had publically disagreed with Lord Alexander.

Lord James merely inclined his head toward Lord Alexander in response to what the Prince had said, and everyone in attendance – at least those who are with the prince and are familiar with how the Prince runs his staff – knew that that was an indication that the Prince and Lord James would speak about this later. Right now, the more important thing was to take charge of the situation.

Lord Alexander turned toward Harry and said, "Take these into custody, Cadet," he ordered, using a tone of voice that conveyed to everyone in the Great Hall that Lord Alexander was not amused by what had happened.

That was hardly surprising considering what had happened, "Could you identify the spell fired from the wand by the deceased?" he asked.

"It was the killing curse, my Lord," Harry replied without hesitation, and despite the effect of the oath on a quarter of the student population – and quite a lot of the staff – there were gasps of surprises that came from the student population. Harry, however, ignored them, despite the fact that Hermione was amongst those who had been surprised, "And I think it was powerful as well."

Harry prayed that he does not have to tell his liege lord that the effect of the killing curse was directly related to the power used by the caster.

A grim mask was suddenly over the face of Lord Alexander. The prince turned toward his fiancée and seemed to regard her with concerned eyes. Lady Emma merely smiled back toward the man that she would someday marry – her liege lord among other things – to indicate that she was fine, but from the look that Lord Alexander was giving her, it was obvious that he is not going to take only her word for it. Harry realized that Lord Alexander would subject her fiancé to an intense examination tonight.

"My Lord," the voice of one of Lord Alexander's senior staff member cut through the uncomfortable silence that had descended across the Great Hall after the announcement of Harry that a killing curse had been fired toward the back of a high ranking noble of the Holy Empire.

Both Lord Alexander and Harry turned their attention toward the speaker and saw the bespectacled and relatively young face of Rear Admiral Daniel William 'Ash' Ashford, the chief military advisor of Lord Alexander.

"My Lord," Rear Admiral Ashford repeated, "This is an assassination attempt, I urge you to take control of the school and take the would-be assassins into custody."

"I agree, My Lord," Vice Admiral Cline added, speaking for the first time since he had shot and killed Gregory Goyle, "The fact that the deceased attempted to confront us with this group tells me that this is a conspiracy and in addition to the suggestions of Rear Admiral Ashford, I suggest that you order the formation of an investigative committee to look for further conspirators, if, indeed, they exist," and as he said that, the gaze of the Vice Admiral turned toward the staff table where the staff cringed at the insinuation that the Vice Admiral was providing.

The Headmaster would have howled in outrage at the suggestions of Rear Admiral Ashford, but the suggestions of Vice Admiral Cline left him wanting to jump from his seat and challenge the man to a duel. Unfortunately for him, he might have mustered enough rage to actually stand once more, he does not have enough to actually overpower his oath. The gale that had forced him to submit returned in full force and the Headmaster was once more forced to resume his seat as the pressure mounted beyond what he could resist.

"We shall see," Lord Alexander promised. Harry noted that even as he said that to reply to the suggestions of his subordinates, he had not taken his eyes off of Lady Emma. The concern was still there despite the unspoken assurances that the Marchioness was giving him.

The Prince walked slowly – his every gait displaying every measure of the power that he held at that moment as _everyone_ in the room was forced to turn their attention toward him – toward his fiancé. The look of neutrality on the face of Lady Emma caused concern for many of those who was inside the Hall as they realized at that moment that their ultimate fates depend upon this woman whom the man who had invoked the Oath against them was walking toward.

They might never have met the Marchioness before, but those who realize the power that she has over Lord Alexander are now praying that she would be merciful toward them.

"Are you alright?" the Prince asked, the concern on his face evident, and as both Harry and Hermione watched the Prince and the look on his face, both – unknowingly and unconsciously – had the exact same thought, '_I wish he/she would someday look at me like that'._

For her reply, the Marchioness smiled at her prince, "Yes," she replied simply, but the reaction to her reply was anything but simple. The assembled faculty and the very few students who are aware of the reason behind their sudden incapacity held their bated breath, for the simple answer of the Marchioness – completely devoid of anything that those assembled could use – did nothing to either lower or increase their fear of what Lord Alexander might do next.

Seemingly unaware of the tension in the hall – unlikely given the way that the Prince was raised – Lord Alexander focused his gaze upon Lady Emma for close to two minutes. Harry knew from personal experience that having Lord Alexander stare at a person for just two seconds could cause any person to fidget or even to turn away their attention from him, but Lady Emma kept her gaze upon the man that she would someday marry.

After a seemingly long time, Lord Alexander removed his gaze from his fiancé. Vice Admiral Cline and Rear Admiral Ashford did not have look of irritations on their faces when Lord Alexander turned his attention toward them, though Harry knew that that was mostly because both men knew that the Prince would do what he had done even before the Prince had done it. The two men had served Lord Alexander for a considerable time and both are aware of how the Prince does things.

"This certainly was unexpected," Lord Alexander said, and though the intended recipient of the words that came out of the mouth of the Prince were four people – Vice Admiral Cline, Rear Admiral Ashford, Headmaster Dumbledore, and Harry – everyone in the hall cringed at the voice of the Prince. To them, it felt as if the man who is widely acknowledged as one of the most powerful men in the Holy Empire – though only a few inside the Hall knew that for certain – was about to invoke the most dreaded article in the Oath.

Matters were not helped when instead of turning his attention toward the Headmaster to come to some kind of solution, Lord Alexander instead turned his attention toward the kneeling attackers in front of him.

Both Harry and Hermione watched in silence as Lord Alexander regarded the Slytherin students in front of him. Hermione knew that it was an incredibly humbling experience for the five students who are still alive and kneeling in front of the Duke, for these five students, she knew from bitter experience, are the worst of the blood bigots. That they found themselves kneeling in front of a man that they profess to be inferior to them must have hurt not only their knees but also their pride.

"What should I do with you?" Lord Alexander mused as he stared at his attackers, completely unaware that behind him, the Headmaster was struggling to get to his feet in order to make his opinion know, though in this endeavor, he was not even the slightest bit successful.

**Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Near Inverness**

**Scotland, British Isles, Holy Empire of Britannia**

**October 18, 1995**

Potions Master Severus Snape could hardly believe his eyes as he watched the Headmaster slump into his office before falling into his rather impressive – and if Severus would be forced to admit, comfortable, since he had sat there before – chair behind his even more impressive ornate desk.

The potions master was well aware that the Headmaster had just came from a meeting between himself and the prince in order to discuss what they would do with the Slytherin students who were caught in the act of trying to assassinate the prince. Severus had kicked and screamed in order to be allowed into the meeting – arguing that as the Head of House of Slytherin, he should be there to represent the interest of his students – until the chief-of-staff of Lord Alexander pointed out that since Severus is the Head of House, any punishment that should be given to the attackers should also be given to the Head of House.

The Potions Master might be a former Death Eater and a member of the pureblood supremacy movement, but he was also a half-blood, and more importantly, he has an innate sixth sense when it comes to evading responsibility and covering his ass. That was exactly what he did with the situation, and despite the fact that he really wanted nothing more but to be in the meeting, his sense of self-protection kicked in and he made himself wait in the office of the Headmaster.

Judging from the tired look on the face of the Headmaster, Severus realized that he should count himself lucky that he was not included in that meeting, and he involuntarily shuddered as he imagined exactly what happened that caused the Headmaster to look haggard. Of course, he truly would not count himself out of the fire until the Headmaster could confirm that he is not going to be included in the aftermath of the failed attempt.

A brief movement of the finger of the Headmaster caught Severus by surprise, and the man actually cringed even if it was obvious that whatever spell it was that the Headmaster had invoked was not meant for him. A glass shot out from the cabinet of the Headmaster at the same time that an unopened bottle of firewhiskey appeared on the desk of the man who was considered as one of the most powerful – if not the most powerful – man in the whole of the magical world.

Without saying anything, the Headmaster poured himself a shot glass full of the foul smelling liquid and the Headmaster – displaying constitution absent from a muggle his age, considering that_ all_ muggles would be dead by the time they reach his age – not only managed to empty the glass in one gulp, he managed to keep the liquid in without throwing up.

"Headmaster?" Severus asked cautiously. The Potions Master was not even sure of the Headmaster could actually see him as he sat in front of the old man who looked as if he wanted to do nothing more but to drown himself in drink.

For a few moments, the Headmaster showed no sign that he had even heard his potions master, but since Severus was not going to try again – he figured that once is more than enough – the Headmaster finally turned his attention toward the one of the men that he had directly saved during the war.

Fighting back the urge to pour himself another drink, Albus turned his attention toward Severus and indicated that the potions master should be the first one to start with a questioning look on his face.

Severus disliked being the first one to start, but he figured that in this case, there was no choice, though he did subconsciously note that he would be in very, very hot water if he starts this conversation in the wrong way.

Ultimately, however, Severus knew that he had no choice but to begin the conversation in such a way that even the potions master knew would land him in hot water, "So," the potions master began, "How did it go?"

Albus Dumbledore actually cringed at just being reminded of what had happened, and a worried Severus Snape realized that that meant that the meeting had not gone well for the Headmaster. For a brief few moments, the potions master wondered if he could still escape from the Office of the Headmaster and from Hogwarts, but as he continued to sit at his seat and wait for the Headmaster to reply, the potions master realized that for now, Hogwarts was the best place for him.

Severus had no illusions regarding his safety out there. He might not be hunted by his former comrades – he had somehow convinced them that he had turned spy at the instructions of their Dark Lord – but the fact remains that his former students would like to hunt him down, and there is no telling what the Prince had told the Headmaster regarding the situation and circumstance of one Severus Snape, not, at least, if he were to flee the school.

Finally, the Headmaster returned to the present. Aware of the most pressing concern of the man that was now seated in front of him, the Headmaster decided to address the unasked question of his potions master first. In any case, Albus knew that if he were to answer the unasked question of Severus first, the potions master would be more susceptible to some suggestions, especially if the Headmaster would play his words right.

"I had managed to convince His Grace that you had nothing to do with the incident," Dumbledore said, though the glare that he gave his potions master told Severus that despite the words that had came out of the mouth of the Headmaster, the Headmaster was of the opinion that Severus had something to do with it.

Of course, Albus knew that Severus had nothing to do with the incident, but he had to insinuate that he – the Headmaster – had pulled the ass of his potions master from the fire. It would make Severus more susceptible to suggestions, and not for the first time since he had met Severus – as a young child, after all, Albus was already Headmaster when Severus entered Hogwarts – how a powerful mind like that of Severus could be easy to manipulate, but with a mental shake of his head, the Headmaster told himself that was a good thing since it allowed him to manipulate the potions master to do his bidding.

"Your words tell me that the prince was not that convinced," Severus noted dryly.

'_Yes,'_ Albus thought to himself, '_Lord Alexander was most adamant that Severus had something to do with the attempt, though it is obvious that the prince was more angry not at the attempt against him, but against the Lady Emma.'_

Albus did not even bother to say anything, he merely nodded, but that was enough and as if to emphasize that fact, Severus actually slumped in his seat in response to the action of the Headmaster.

"What should we do, sir?" Severus asked, his voice hopeful, and unknown to Severus, the desperation in his words caused a smile to form on the face of the Headmaster. Albus knew that he has Severus exactly where he wanted the young man, specifically; Severus was now ready to do the bidding of the Headmaster.

"What do you think should we do?" the Headmaster asked, and for a few moments, the older man who already had a plan in his head did nothing but stare at Severus, impatiently waiting for the man to come up with the same solution that the Headmaster had already concluded on his own.

Albus supposed that he could make the direct suggestion, but – unaware of the power behind the Oath until that moment that he actually experienced it – he was unwilling to even risk even a collateral attack on it. it was far better to let Severus voice the conclusion on his own, partly because it would galvanize Severus better than if the Headmaster would directly suggest it, and partly as a test to see just how powerful the Oath could be.

"We could circumvent the Oath," Severus said a few moments later. Albus stared at his potions master for a few moments, waiting for the Oath to kick in, but when Severus remained breathing after five seconds, the Headmaster was convinced that the Oath was not going to kill them.

'_Perhaps the earlier assessment of Severus was correct,'_ the Headmaster thought to himself, '_It is a two way street, and the recent actions of the Prince was a severance, but how did he manage to invoke it even after the death of Mr. Goyle?'_

The body of Gregory Goyle would not be released to his parents as was custom. Instead, invoking the Oath, Lord Alexander had ordered that the body of the young boy whom the Prince had labeled as a traitor would be hanged from the tower of Hogwarts, a punishment fit for those who had tried to attack a member of the Royal Family and one that had long since been outlawed in the muggle world. Apparently, it was still enforceable in the magical world.

"Could you find a way to break it without the consequences?" Albus asked a few moments later. Severus looked ready to reply, but before the potions master could push one word out of his mouth, the Headmaster of Hogwarts intervened, "You must have felt the power behind the Oath, Severus, it made us both return to our seats even if we are fighting against it."

The uncomfortable look on the face of the potions master confirmed for the Headmaster that Severus did not find the fact that he had been overpowered – by a muggle, no less – amusing. The man looked ready to tear Lord Alexander and his party limb from limb, but Severus is smart enough to know that he could never do that, Oath or no Oath. The bodyguards of Lord Alexander looked deadly enough, as the classmates of Mr. Goyle would attest.

Those same students – whom the Prince had labeled as conspirators – are all under arrest pending investigation. The Prince was willing to accept the explanation of the Headmaster that there is still a chance that the students had no idea that their classmate was going to fire a killing curse – and yes, the Prince was well aware that that was the spell fired, even if no one amongst Hogwarts staff or students had told him – at him and his fiancé. Lord Alexander, however, demanded an investigation, and it was an investigation that the Headmaster could not deny the Prince.

Fortunately, the ones doing the investigation would be the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. The Headmaster does not have enough friends in that department, but it was a compromise that he and the prince agreed upon, since the prince had initially wanted the investigation to be handled by his Chief-of-Staff – Vice Admiral Cline, the very man who had done the shooting and had demanded the take-over – and that would have been disastrous as the Headmaster had _no_ friends in that body.

"There should be a way around it, Headmaster," Severus assured his superior. The sneer on the face of the potions master told the Headmaster that Severus has something more to add – no doubt a derision of the muggles – but the potions master held himself, probably realizing that the muggles are now appearing to be the one who was underestimated by the magicals instead of the other way around as was always claimed by their historians.

"I will trust you with it, then, Severus," the Headmaster said. He pretended to be bothered by the assurance of his potions master for a few moments – just enough to present doubt to the course of action – before he gave that answer.

The truth was, Albus really had no idea if there was a way around the Oath. He could only hope that Severus could find it, but as smart and intelligent as the sour-faced potions master is, he is nowhere near as smart and as intelligent as the Headmaster. Albus, however, would rather not risk his life and limb trying to break an Oath that he could not be sure could not harm him.

For all the confidence of the Headmaster and the potions master that a way exists, the Headmaster just was not willing to take anything up to chance.

**Aboard **_**HMS Iron Duke**_**, Britannian Grand Fleet Flagship, Black Lake**

**Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Near Inverness**

**Scotland, British Isles, Holy Empire of Britannia**

**October 18, 1995**

The conference room aboard the two hundred fifty seven meter long battleship was actually just the wardroom. At times when it was not used for conferences, the officers hang out in this place to pass time, and as if to emphasize that fact, this wardroom was actually nothing but a library.

There are, however, seats inside the room and a whiteboard used for times like these, when the ward doubles as a conference room.

Lord Alexander was seated beside Lady Emma – as was usual – near the front of the room. He would usually use his flag quarters to meet with his closest advisors, but the size of this meeting – more than a dozen people are present – precluded that option. His quarters could hold him and Lady Emma at night and could be used to meet with six – even seven people – at the same time, but there was no way it could fit a dozen.

At some unspoken and unseen signal, Lady Emma began the meeting, unusual for those who had never attended meetings like this before since Lady Emma projects an image of being submissive and always in agreement with her fiancée, "You were harsher than you ought to be," she said, surprising Brigadier General Arnott and his deputy – both of whom are attending a meeting like this for the first time – with her accusatory tone. In fact, the deputy of Brigadier General Arnott looked ready to take offense.

The lack of response from Lord Alexander – not to mention the looks of amusement in the face of the other regular attendees in Lord Alexander's personal meetings – convinced both the general and his deputy that this was normal occurrence in meetings like this.

"Such is the punishment for traitors," Lord Alexander replied with an easy smile and a tone that suggested that it was – for the Prince – an off-handed comment. He looked at Lady Emma before he added, "It was not my fault that they refuse to follow our world into the twentieth and beyond, they are the ones who should have repealed that law, goodness knows, my great-grandfather would have allowed it."

Lord Alexander's great-grandfather – the father of the current Empress Elizabeth – was Emperor Edward I who reigned from 1940 to 1970. He was the one who had first banned the penalty of death within the Empire, a trend that was followed by almost all nations around the world who would not be beaten in such publicity by the Holy Empire. Nowadays, the only offense punishable by death in the Holy Empire – at least, in the non-magical world – is a successful assassination of a member of the immediate Royal Family.

For a few moments, Lady Emma did not say anything, her silence a beacon for everyone else in the room and preventing them from voicing their opinions. After a few moments, Lady Emma gave a nod toward her fiancé, an action that indicated that while the argument over this particular matter is now over, she was still against his decision. Whether or not the two of them would speak about this at a later venue, however, is a matter left between the two of them.

Lord Alexander acknowledged the concession of his fiancée before he turned his attention toward the commander of the ground forces in the area," General," Lord Alexander began, "I trust that the deployment is going off as planned and without a hitch," an amused smile graced the face of Lord Alexander before the prince amended his words, "or at least, not as much hitch as to cause serious problems."

The nod of Brigadier General Arnott answered the question of Lord Alexander, the words that came out of his mouth clarified the answer, "We have been at the receiving end of some angry stares since we arrived here, Sir," the general said, "but so far, no one had been foolish enough to try anything against the men," he grumbled lowly, an indication that he was angry, before he added, "At least, not before tonight."

Lord Alexander actually laughed, "What happened tonight was well within parameters," the prince admitted. He stared at the general and his subordinate and added, "We suspected that someone is going to do something like this, and we had already taken appropriate precautions," his eyes turned dark, however, before he added, "I was, however, not informed that my Lady Emma may be in danger," and the threat that laced his voice actually made the general and his deputy – both seasoned combat veterans – cringe in their seats.

Lady Emma placed her hand on the shoulder of her would-be husband, and that was all that was needed in order to calm Lord Alexander.

"Where's Cadet Potter?" Lord Alexander asked.

"He and his cadets are seconded to tonight's guards, sir," Rear Admiral Ashford replied easily, "I took the liberty to get him out of the way for this meeting."

Lord Alexander nodded, though he pretended not to see the scowls on the face of the only two civilians in the room with him, Lord James and Lady Lily Potter. The Prince supposed that he could understand their indignation; after all, the cadet is their son and had been given an important mission. His absence here despite the fact that their discussion would soon have something to do with the mission that he was given was telling.

"Lady Potter," Lord Alexander said as he turned his attention toward Lily. The Countess of Lisbourne turned to regard her liege lord just in time to watch as Lord Alexander said, "I had been informed that you had spoken with one of the students of the school."

Lily nodded, "I had, Your Grace," Lily replied nonchalantly. For a few moments, there was silence as no one spoke, apparently, Lily was not going to say anything unless asked a direct question, but Lord Alexander was also not going to ask a direct question. Finally, Lily broke the silence – no doubt influenced by the fact that her husband had nudged her numerous times – and said, "My son had nothing but praise for Hermione Granger and I thought I should check her out," she smiled before she inclined her head toward Rear Admiral Granger, but the adjutant of Lord Alexander kept his piece despite the fact that Lily was asking him to say something.

"I intend to ask Your Grace to offer her a chance to prove her loyalty to the Empire," Lily continued after he stared at Rear Admiral Granger for a few moments. The uncle of Hermione was supposed to be the one doing this, since the girl is his niece, "Toward the end that she be allowed to move to the mainland in order to continue her education there."

Lord Alexander smiled, "Hermione Granger had always been at the lit, Lady Lily," the Prince admitted, he nodded toward his adjutant – an action that confirmed to Lily that Rear Admiral Granger had already done this before, and from the way that the things are looking, he had been granted this wish – before he continued, "Pending the approval of her father, Hermione would be allowed to attend universities at the mainland of her choice, but..," and here, he looked toward Lily, "I suspect that your interaction with the young lady had made permission from her father a moot and academic point."

Lily had the good graces to blush, but did not say anything. Lord Alexander merely smiled at her before he shook his head and said, toward Rear Admiral Granger, "Would you speak with your brother for me?" he asked.

Rear Admiral Granger did not even hesitate, "Of course, Your Grace," he replied, he paused for a few moments, but instead of returning his attention toward Lord Alexander, he turned it toward Vice Admiral Cline.

The Chief of Staff noted the fact that Rear Admiral Granger was looking at him, but Vice Admiral Cline did not turn his attention toward his subordinate, instead, he kept his attention forward, toward Lord Alexander, and he said, "Your Grace, I think we should discuss our next move regarding the school."

Lord Alexander turned to regard his chief-of-staff for a few moments. The two men stared at each other, neither blinking, but just as Vice Admiral Cline was about to say something, Lord Alexander suddenly said, "I know what you are going to suggest, Kevin."

Vice Admiral Cline was taken aback by a few moments, but proving that he was well qualified to be the chief-of-staff to Lord Alexander when he stared back at his superior officer. Everyone in attendance knew that the only one who could actually last at a staring match with the Prince, however, was Lady Emma, and in this, they were proven correct when a few moments later, Vice Admiral Cline averted his gaze from Lord Alexander.

"We are not here to assert Imperial control over the school, we are merely here to remind them to whom they owe their loyalty to," Lord Alexander began. He turned his attention away from his chief-of-staff and focused it toward the rest of the people in attendance, "Toward that end, we are to find a way to remove those that are harming our relationship with the magical world from this school, and other positions of power," he focused his attention toward Vice Admiral Cline and asked, "Who are these people?"

Vice Admiral Cline stiffened in response, "Sir," he began. Like Lord Alexander, he had read the reports that had been forwarded by Imperial Intelligence, and like his liege lord, Vice Admiral Cline was well aware that the information within are classified. Not everyone in the room have the necessary security classification to actually know who is on that list.

Lord Alexander raised his hand and motioned for his chief-of-staff to not continue anymore. He turned to regard everyone in the room before he refocused his gaze at Vice Admiral Cline and said, "We have enemies amongst the ranks of the staff of this school, and we have enemies amongst the rank and file of the students of this school, but that does not mean that _everyone_ in this school is an enemy," he shook his head for emphasis and added, "The fact that the niece of Rear Admiral Granger is here should have been enough indication, Vice Admiral Cline."

"Sir," Vice Admiral Cline replied.

Lord Alexander, however, was not yet done admonishing his chief-of-staff, "If we do as you suggest and take over this school, we would be turning those _everyone_ into enemies, and not even the presence of 'C' Brigade, indeed, not even the presence of 22nd Infantry Division and our battleship division, would be enough to contain the insurrection that would surely follow once news hit the rest of their world," he shook his head and added, "I agree that we need to reassert our control over this world, but we must do it in such a way that the civilians, those students and some of the staff, would welcome – rather than disdain – us."

For a few moments, there was silence as each and every person in the room digested the information that Lord Alexander had just given them.

It was James, Viscount of Lisbourne, who broke the silence but the words out of his mouth are exactly the words that everyone else in the room was thinking about, "He's going to try to find a way to break the Oath," the count said in a tone of finality. Lord Alexander turned his attention toward his subordinate and James added, "If there is one thing that the old man does not like, its something having more power than him – or anything actually."

Lord Alexander turned to Rear Admiral Ashford and at the sight of his commander looking at him, the military advisor reported, "Lord James may be onto something here, sir," he conceded, "People like the Headmaster are never happy when someone more powerful than them makes their presence known."

"His Grace is power," Brigadier General Arnott said, injecting himself into the conversation. He actually looked indignant at the insinuation that the Headmaster is offended at the thought that Lord Alexander is more powerful.

"We mean in terms of magical power, general," Lily replied, before she pointedly ignored the fact that the general was staring at her with a murderous expression written on his face. She turned her attention toward Rear Admiral Ashford and asked, "Do you know of a way around it?"

Lily knew that of all the people inside the room, Rear Admiral Ashford has the highest intelligence score. It was not surprising that the man graduated first in his class from every school that he had attended, including one of the highest grades in the Naval Postgraduate School in Rhode Island with _two_ degrees that he attained at the same time.

"There are several ways that we – as in the non-magical side of the treaty – could break the Oath," he explained, "but for their side, I see two, maybe three, ways that they could get out of it, one being far superior to the other two, but would result to consequences to whoever it is that is breaking the Oath."

"A direct challenge to the Oath?" Lord Alexander asked, and when Rear Admiral Ashford nodded, the Prince asked, "What are the chances of that happening?"

"Practically zero, Admiral," Rear Admiral Ashford replied. He paused before he explained his reasoning, "The Headmaster might be delusional, but he is not stupid, and I do not think anyone that he would set to find a way to break the Oath – I do not see him being the one who would be doing this personally – would not be as well," he shook his head for emphasis before he added, "the Headmaster could not afford to leave this in the hands of someone who would be stupid enough to directly challenge the Oath."

"Every one of his closest and smartest allies were with us in the Great Hall," James said a few moments later, "there are those who are more powerful, magically and politically, but power does not necessarily equate to intelligence, especially one that I think would be required in order to break the Oath without consequences."

Silence descended between those who are in the meeting once more, but it was a silence that was not going to last long, as Lord Alexander asked another direct question, "Practically zero is not the same as zero, Rear Admiral Ashford," he observed, "Could we discount the fact that someone might actually be stupid enough to do exactly that? A direct challenge?"

The silence that descended inside the room spoke volumes, and finally, Rear Admiral Ashford was forced to reply, "I honestly do not know, Admiral," he replied, "but human nature and self-preservation should stop any direct challenge," he paused before he added, "We all saw what happened when the Oath was invoked his evening."

Heads nodded around the room as everyone acknowledged that. Everyone inside was aware of the Oath – or at least, they are now even if they had not been when they first saw it this evening – but none of them had any idea that it would do what it had done this evening. In theory, anyone who would pose a direct challenge to the Oath would be subdued the same way that the entire student and staff population of Hogwarts – with the exemption of Hermione who was with Harry – was subdued this evening.

"Then our worry would be the subtle way that our enemies in the castle would break the Oath," Lord Alexander concluded, and at the look on the face of Lady Emma, he quickly added, "That we have enemies in the castle is a foregone conclusion, Love,"

Lady Emma was forced to concede that what her fiancé had said was true, and she politely inclined her head toward his direction in supplication, though the look on his face told Lord Alexander that she still does not like it.

"It will happen, gentlemen, ladies," Lord Alexander said, and though it was meant for everyone, the next words out of his mouth were directed toward Brigadier General Arnott, "That Oath is not meant to stop rebellion from the magical world, it was meant to warn us of its impending approach so that we may prepare for it. Our ancestors wished to subdue the magical world as well, but the circumstances of that time forced us to abandon it," the smile on his face was vicious and predatory as he added, "The situation today is changed. We have no enemy powerful – or stupid – enough to try to challenge us directly, Europe is at peace, as are the Americas and Asia while in Africa, our interest remains guarded by our alliance with the Middle-East Federation and the South African Union, nothing is preventing us from launching our offensive against the magical world."


	8. Chapter VIII

**A/N: **I do not own Harry Potter or anything associated with it.

* * *

**EIGHT**

_**Information Classified**_

_**Central Imperial Intelligence Agency, Langley, Virginia**_

_**Department Thirty-One**_

_**Subject: **__The Great European Magical War and Agent Alchemy_

_**Report:**_

_In 1914, following the opening of hostilities between France and Prussia, the two most dominant military powers in Western Europe, the predecessor agency of the Central Imperial Intelligence Academy, the Department of Imperial Strategic Intelligence, received a total of __[information redacted]__ communiqués from a source within then French-occupied British Isles. The nature of these communiqués convinced the then government of Prime Minister Clayton Monroe that the nature of the Franco-Prussian War of 1914 was anything but mundane._

_Agent Alchemy – as the source preferred to be called – provided information – verified through __[information redacted]__ – that the war between the two states had actually been engineered by a group of magicals that call themselves as the Knights of Walpurgis, operating under the leadership of one Gellert Grindelwald, a self-styled dark lord. Through various intercepts, the information from Agent Alchemy, and other __[information redacted]__, the Department was able to confirm that Grindelwald and his followers had incited the war in order to create a __[information redacted]__. Whether or not such __[information redacted]__ could succeed is still open to debate, but the fact remains that as a result of their meddling, the Franco-Prussian War happened._

_At the same time, the Holy Empire could not allow __[information redacted]__ to happen, especially since it would be in __[information redacted]__, a land that is __[information redacted]__ to the __[information redacted]__._

_From the __[information redacted]__ provided by __[information redacted]__, Imperial Intelligence was able to identify several key members of the Knights of Walpurgis, and while a direct assassination attempt against Grindelwald was judged to be too risky, several of his lieutenants and followers were destroyed by __[information redacted]__._

_We are also able to confirm that as a result of these __[information redacted]__, the Great European Magical War erupted. Grindelwald and his followers believed that the __[information redacted]__ were being conducted by a rival group known as the Order of the Phoenix, and as such, retaliated against this organization._

_From __[information redacted]__ from Agent Alchemy, we are able to formulate the membership of this other group, the Order of the Phoenix, and we know that it is headed by one Albus Dumbledore, a man who is now believed to be the head of the Magical Parliament in the British Isles._

_In 1915, while the war between France and Germany was heating up, the Great European Magical War erupted in full force, dangerously bringing the magical world closer to the non-magical world than anyone had ever done before, for in their enthusiasm in killing their enemies, neither the Knights of Walpurgis nor the Order of the Phoenix cared much about the Statute of Secrecy._

_Indeed, during the __[information redacted]__, non-magical soldiers from Prussia reported __[information redacted]__ savaging the French lines, with the occasional __[information redacted]__. The next morning, when the same soldiers marched upon the enemy camp, they found enemy soldiers unmarked but clearly dead, a sure sign of the __[information redacted]__._

_The Great European Magical War ended less than two years later, in the early part of 1917, in __[information redacted]__. Albus Dumbledore and Gellert Grindelwald reportedly met each other in duel, and after __[information redacted]__ of duel, the leader of the Order of the Phoenix was able to subdue his adversary. No one knows what happened to Grindelwald after the duel, but it is believed that he had died. Imperial Intelligence has an __[information redacted]__ of the duel, information that came from Agent Alchemy which led Imperial Intelligence to believe that Agent Alchemy was a member of either the Knights of Walpurgis or the Order of the Phoenix._

_The identity of Agent Alchemy has never been discerned by Imperial Intelligence even after nearly ninety years after he had first contacted Imperial Intelligence. Whoever he may be, however, it is believed that he had long died, but not before providing Imperial Intelligence with enough __[information redacted]__ to make successful Operation Righteous Dawn, the reconquest of the British Isles. _

_Throughout the years, various theories have surfaced within Imperial Intelligence as to the real identity of this unnamed patriot. Everyone from __[information redacted]__to __[information redacted]__ himself had been suggested, but such theories are quick to be dismissed save for one or two that are incredibly hard to dismiss owing to the circumstantial evidence that accompany the allegation. _

_Perhaps the most popular Agent Alchemy theory was the one charging __[information redacted]__ with being the man behind the mask. It was alleged that the handle-name of Agent Alchemy had direct correlation with the field of work of __[information redacted]__, but given the circumstance, it might no longer be possible to confirm this. _

_In any case, whoever Agent Alchemy was, the Holy Empire owe him a great debt. Not only did he assist in the __[information redacted]__ during the Great European Magical War, he was also instrumental during Operation Righteous Dawn. It is fitting that one of the __[information redacted]__ in __[information redacted]__ at __[information redacted]__ is dedicated to him._

**Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Near Inverness**

**Scotland, British Isles, Holy Empire of Britannia**

**October 19, 1995**

The glare of the sun was not as harsh as Harry had expected, but he still had to squint his eyes nonetheless as focused his attention toward the sight in front of him. The five battleships that form the battleship division under the direct command of Lord Alexander had just retrieved their anchors. On their decks, crews were busily running to and fro as they secure everything on the deck in preparation for their departure, but even to the most landlubber of the soldiers that were in formation as they waited for the departure of the Prince and his party, something was not right.

Harry – and his naval cadets – has somewhat of an advantage over their soldier counterparts, but that was mostly because they are navy cadets. Harry knew that the sailors are clearing the decks of anything that could suddenly fly off of the deck. Normally, that would not be a concern if the ships were just going to take to the sky and cruise – or even go to flank speed – in formation, and it was precisely the fact that the sailors are busy clearing the decks – a precursor to the watch officer sounding general quarters – that alerted Harry and his cadets that something was not right.

Despite the fact that he was supposed to be standing at attention – something that was not easy to do for a normal person given the fact that the cadets are at full dress, together with their excessively heavy cadet headgear commonly known as a shako – Harry used his peripheral vision to study the people who were gathered off to one side, away from the formation of two infantry platoons – the honor company – of 'C' Brigade.

Headmaster Albus Dumbledore and his staff looked out of place in their dark and dour – well, save for the Headmaster's – robes. Four rows of neatly attired and completely still men with their rifles resting on their shoulders and an impromptu squad of naval cadets in full uniform had that effect on them, but Harry knew that the Headmaster and his staff are required to see the departure of Lord Alexander. It was custom, and if there was anything about this particular magical society that Harry had learned since the few days that he was here, it was the fact that they are too big on customs.

Harry would have smiled at that thought, but since he was in formation, he prevented himself from doing that. Instead, he turned his attention to the _other_ side of the formation. A group of Hogwarts students had gathered to see off the Prince, and like the staff of Hogwarts, they are in their everyday robes. Harry knew that Hermione is with that crowd, and he also knew that most of the people in that crowd are either first generation or mixed-blood students who had sufficient experience with the non-magical world. Those are the same students who are aware of the power that those battleships carry with them.

Harry returned his attention to the battleships that are even now slowly sprouting smoke from the smoke stacks on their amidships. He knew that their engines – a hybrid gas-electric engine that Harry knew is reinforced by top secret components, top secret because they are based on several magical theories – are starting, and in a few moments, they would take to the skies using a complicated method that Harry had not yet taken to heart despite the fact that he knew it would be part of his examinations at the end of his second year in the Academy.

The battleships – one of them over one hundred thousand tons in weight – silently gained altitude, but unlike an airplane, the altitude gain was relatively slow as the officers at the bridge in charge of the altitude of the ship guided their ships carefully in an attempt to keep the formation. Harry knew that the ships could take to the skies faster than what they are demonstrating right now, but there are things to be taken into consideration, not the least of which, Harry is sure, is the fact that Lord Alexander was planning something with the guns of the ships under his command.

Having never been at the receiving end of a full broadside – specially one coming from five of the biggest battleships of the Holy Empire – Harry could not accurately define and explain the feeling. He had – as a first year cadet – experienced a full broadside, but that was relatively light, with five five-inch guns of a destroyer firing to welcome the cadets as they take their first step into the Academy. More, those guns were not only firing blanks, they are firing away from the cadets.

Then again, Harry knew that not even the most powerful mage could withstand a full broadside of at least sixteen-inch – maybe even just six-inch – guns. The smallest gun in the make-shift flotilla that was slowly gaining altitude in front of Harry is the five-inch secondary guns mounted on the sides of the ships. These guns are meant for engaging smaller ships and there are more than five of them in each ship.

The young naval cadet briefly wondered if and when his time to serve came, if he would be assigned to such heavy behemoths that seem to defy the laws of nature, but he realized that it was not up to him, it was up to his superiors, though given the liege of his parents, he knew that it was likely that he would someday be commanding a ship of his own, perhaps, even a battleship or an aircraft carrier.

He briefly wondered if when his time comes, he would be leading ships into combat, but he quickly mentally shook himself awake and reminded himself that despite the political situation between the Holy Empire and many other countries turning south, the Holy Empire – with her power and large fleet – is still untouched by any rumors of war even if her traditional allies are on the verge of fighting their own.

Harry mentally shook his head and forced himself to return to the present. He returned his attention to the ships that had now achieved a considerable altitude and had stopped as the officers in charge of those ships – their captains mostly – confer with each other that they are in the proper altitude. Harry had no doubt that they are, the captains, officers, and crew that make up the ninth battleship division are the cream of the crop, the elite of an already elite formation, and besides, from where the young cadet stood, the ships looked perfectly aligned from all angles.

The loud sound of a pack howitzer – L118 Light Guns, the heaviest weapon of the brigade – tore Harry out from the reverie that he was about to fall into. He does not need to turn his attention toward the direction of the Hogwarts staff to know that they cringed when the first gun fired, but if they had expected that to be the only instance that the gun would fire, they were sorely mistaken, as the attached field artillery company to the brigade – a small company from the artillery brigade of the division – rapidly fired all of their guns to form the traditional twenty one gun salute.

By the time that the artillery was done with their work, the staff of Hogwarts thought that they are used to the loud sound of the guns firing, but the guns of the artillery company were small, compared with the heavy naval artillery that the battleships were equipped with.

As soon as the artillery on the ground was done, the turrets on the ships became alive. The long barrels of the naval guns moved up as their hydraulic systems came to life. Less than a fraction of a second later, the big boxes mounted on the barbettes came alive as they pivoted. Fortunately, their guns were pointed away from the school.

Harry imagined the look of shock on the faces of the staff – and maybe even the students – of Hogwarts, but before anyone could say anything, everything was drowned as thunder rumbled overhead the grounds.

The closest word that Harry could use to describe the sound of the naval artillery firing was a dozen thunders rumbling at the same time. The shockwave of all _sixty_ heavy caliber guns firing would have been enough to flatten a few trees in the forest had the altitude of the ships not been enough. As it stands, Harry imagined that quite a few windows in the castle had been broken though he reminded himself that he should not be surprised if that was not the case. After all, the castle is the site of a magical school; it only stands to reason that the windows are warded.

Unlike the staff – and some students – the honor company was unfazed by the firing and kept their attention. They kept their attention even as the first ship in the line – Lord Alexander's _HMS Iron Duke_ – activated its airscrews, pushing the one hundred thousand ton monster forward in a steadily increasing speed. His consorts – smaller than their leader by a good twenty thousand tons, but still heavier – followed closely, their own airscrews pushing them at a speed to keep pace with the heavier ship. As with all Imperial battleships, they were designed with a cruise speed of eighteen knots, but Harry knew that the ships are not even performing half that speed.

"Detail," the voice of the company commander in charge of the honor company made Harry turn his attention to the front. The officer who had just given the command had turned his attention toward his command, and Harry had focused his attention on the man just in time to hear him give his next command, "Present Arms!"

As one, the members of the company – and Harry and his cadets – saluted. They may be facing an empty lake, but it was universally understood that the salute was meant for the man who was most assuredly holding his own salute at the bridge of his flagship – Lord Alexander.

The salute on the ground was held until the hull of the five battleships had been completely gobbled up by the low clouds that had gathered over the grounds, but for a brief few moments, everyone at the grounds could watch – despite the distance and the altitude – as the five battleships of Lord Alexander resume their formation with fifteen other ships of relatively similar size and countless smaller consorts before the entire formation moved north toward their destination, the new naval base that was being built near Orkney.

As a show of force, Harry thought that the number of ships in the air was more potent than the firing of a broadside by the battleships of the ninth battleship division, though the young cadet could not deny that the broadside was also effective.

A few minutes later, the honor company and the cadets were dismissed, leaving a mostly empty field from where the cadets and the honor company had stood just a few moments before. By the time that the honor company had been dismissed, the staff of Hogwarts had also taken their leave, as did most of the students who had been curious enough to watch the show.

There were a few students who had stayed, however, and as Harry turned his attention toward them, he felt his heart jump when he saw that Hermione was one of those who had elected to stay behind, though he privately had to admit to himself that that was hardly surprising given the circumstances.

Harry was aware that his mother had spoken with Hermione, but he was not privy to that conversation. Harry was not able to ask his mother what the topic of the conversation between Lily and Hermione was because before he could do so, he was called to report in preparation for the departure honors of Lord Alexander and his battleships.

Now that the battleships had left – his parents with them – the only way that Harry could learn what the topic of that conversation was is by asking Hermione, and fortunately, she seemed to be willing to share.

While most of the soldiers and cadets seem to be milling about and slowly making their way back to camp – the honor company was not on duty because they had to present the departure honors, and the cadets are on break – Harry and Hermione went the opposite way, toward the castle.

Both pretended that they did not notice the fact that Edward followed them at a discrete distance, the result of an order from Lord Alexander himself that the cadets entering the school – or even just approaching it – should never be on their own. The aftermath and the consequences of the death of Gregory Goyle was still not known, and until Lord Alexander and his staff could be sure, the cadets entering the castle would be considered under threat from any retaliation.

"Would you tell me about the conversation you had with my mother?" Harry asked Hermione as soon as they crossed the threshold that separated the castle from the grounds.

She turned her attention toward him, the confused expression on her face not that difficult to decipher. She wanted to ask him if he had not been told, but given the fact that he was asking her directly, it was obvious that the answer was in the negative.

For a few moments, Hermione thought about the reason why Harry had not been told. She had assumed that his parents had informed him before Lily had made the offer, but after a few moments of silence directed at herself, she realized that perhaps, there was a reason why Harry had not been told, though she reasoned that since Lily had not seen fit to inform her that Harry should not be informed of their conversation, she saw nothing wrong with telling him what she talked about with the Countess of Lisbourne.

"Your mother told me about the integration programs in the mainland," Hermione said as they continued to walk toward the castle, "Specifically, she wants me to accept her offer that would allow me to continue my education at the mainland before going further than I thought possible and going to University."

The eyes of Harry widened at that. What was being offered Hermione was no mean thing. Lily is a noble – not born into the Imperial nobility, perhaps, but still possessing the inherent powers of Imperial nobility, including sponsoring someone to school – and this was within her power, but Harry knew that there was something else at play here. With a start, the young cadet realized that his mother was grooming Hermione. Exactly for what, Harry had no idea, but given that the offer came at the heels of a visit from Lord Alexander, it was obvious that the Prince was aware that the offer was made.

Harry told himself that it was even possible that the offer was made under the instructions of the prince.

There was excitement on his face as he asked Hermione, "What would you do?"

The answer that Hermione had given Harry was not what he had expected, but he supposed that it was an answer that he should have expected, "I would have to consult with my parents," she told him, and in response to the unasked question of Harry, she continued, "That would mean I would have to wait till the Yule Break."

'_Reasonable,'_ Harry thought to himself. The actions of the pureblood faction last night had told Harry that there is a chance that there might be separatist – or just plain rebels – inside the school. It made sense that any potential vassal of an Imperial noble not broadcast her intentions, even if it was just an innocent letter home. It was quite possible that the letters are actually being censored, despite the fact that in the Holy Empire, the power to censor is severely constrained and available only to certain people with powers delegated to them by the Golden Throne.

"I'm not sure if I could trust the school owls to deliver the letter to my parents rather than to the Headmaster," Hermione continued, she turned her attention toward Harry and added, "I mean, there had been rumors before that the Headmaster had been screening letters, and it is common knowledge that the caretaker has broad powers when it comes to packages."

Harry nodded. He was certain that the broad power to search the packages was meant as a measure against anything dangerous being brought into the school, but Hermione was right, it could be extended to include letters, and to include letters that are going _out_ of the school rather than in.

"With the apparent growing rift between the Golden Throne and the Headmaster, I would think that prudent," Harry replied. He saw Hermione nod in agreement, and he was certain that she was about to say something, but before she could do so, Harry added, "It also cannot be denied that you spend most of your time with me" – and here, both Harry and Hermione blushed, though neither noticed it despite the fact that they are both looking at each other – "it stands to reason that the supporters of the Headmaster would conclude that you are with us,"

"Which would give him a reason to screen my mail," Hermione replied, again nodding in agreement to the words of Harry.

For a few moments, silence descended around the two as they resumed walking toward the school. Neither noticed when it began, but by the time that Harry had noticed it, he already had the hand of Hermione on his own.

For a few moments, he thought about removing his hand from hers, but at the same time that he thought about removing his hand, he realized that he rather liked the feeling of her skin on his, so he decided against removing his hand.

Hermione noticed it at the same time as Harry, but unlike him, she was already halfway to removing her hand when she realized that she too liked the feeling. She tugged on his hand as a means to cover the fact that she tried to withdraw her hand, but Harry did not notice the action of the girl beside him, not because he was not paying attention, but rather, because at that moment, his attention had been diverted to the person in front of him.

Harry paused first, and Hermione followed suit less than a second later when she realized that Harry had stopped. As she had her gaze toward their held hands, she was not privy to what had made Harry stop until the moment that she turned her gaze to exactly where Harry had his.

Hermione blinked when she saw Ronald Weasley walk out from behind one of the granite stones between the castle and the grounds. Almost unconsciously, Hermione used her free hand to grip her wand, though she managed to keep the focus hidden behind her back. Ron was the older brother of the girl who had nearly blinded her, and this time, she was not going to take chances.

At that moment, however, a wave of magic assaulted her sixth sense, and before she could even think, she turned her attention toward Harry. He seemed calm as he stared at the red-haired youth in front of him – and Hermione was certain that the overly dense Weasley cannot even sense the wave of magic that was, even now, assaulting the senses of Hermione – but Hermione knew that the magic wave was coming from Harry.

She was of two opinions regarding that display – a display that she was not even sure if Harry was aware he was doing. Her first opinion was that Harry needed to be powerful in order to put on such a display of might, but then again, Hermione realized that she should not have found that surprising, of course Harry would be powerful. The second opinion made her weak at the knees when she realized that this was for her. He was defending her without even knowing it.

"Hermione, I've been looking all over for you," Ron said as he practically ran toward her. He was either pointedly ignoring Harry or he was just _that_ dense, and Hermione was not really sure which was the case, given that she and Ron had never been friends – or even acquaintances really.

"What do you want?" Hermione asked. She realized that the way that she asked the question was a way that could be construed as rude, but since that was exactly what she was aiming for, she did not think much about it afterward.

Again, Ron either ignored the rudeness in the way that Hermione had asked the question or he was that dense. Even Harry – who still held her other hand while her free hand held her wand behind her back – cringed when he heard the rudeness in the tone that Hermione had used, but while Harry had heard the rudeness, he could excuse it since he knew that Hermione and the red-haired lad in front of them had been at odds most of the time, and Harry also knew that Ron is the older brother of Ginny, the girl that had nearly blinded Hermione with a prank that Harry was convinced was anything but that.

"This week's a Hogsmeade weekend," Ron began, "And I was wondering if you would like to go with me? You know? Like a date?"

The eyebrows of Hermione nearly reached her forehead, but the reaction of Harry was the exact opposite. The wave of magic that was hitherto assaulting the magical senses of Hermione disappeared – rather abruptly, now that Hermione thought about it, and it left her somewhat uncomfortable since her subconscious realized that Harry was not caressing her, even if it was only in the magical sense – but it quickly reasserted itself, though this time, Hermione was no longer aware of it.

The magic wave now made its presence clear to Ronald Weasley because the moment that it reasserted itself, it was focused solely on him. The youngest Weasley male visibly – and that was an understatement – cringed as he turned his attention toward the direction of Harry. It would appear that he had not noticed the black-haired youth wearing the naval cadet uniform before he had turned his attention toward him, but now, the red-haired youth could not deny the presence of Harry, not when those jade-green eyes of Harry – despite being hidden behind glasses – are glaring at him as if the man behind wants to destroy him – and if Harry was going to be honest, right now, that was exactly what he wanted to do.

Hermione would have paid galleons to see Ronald Weasley – one of her worst tormentors in this school, the others being Draco Malfoy who was cowering at his dorms following the death of his friend, and Ginevra Weasley, who was still cleaning trophies in the trophy room as a result of the detention that she had earned after she had nearly blinded Hermione – destroyed, but aware that this was still a school – and besides, Hermione did not think that it would be proper for Harry to get into a duel over her, no matter how romantic that sounded even to Hermione – she realized that she could not let that happen.

Hermione placed herself between the immovable force – Harry – and the stoppable object that looked as if it wanted to flee from the area anyway – Ron – in a figurative sense.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Weasley," Hermione said in an overly formal way that reminded the two Hogwarts student of their Deputy Headmistress, "As you can see, Cadet Potter would be taking me to the village for this weekend."

The eyes of Ron widened in surprise, but his surprise was nothing compared to the surprise of Harry, though the naval cadet was able to keep himself from physically reacting. In any case, it was more amusing to look at the reaction of Ron after Hermione had said that. The red-haired youth stared at Harry for a few moments before he nodded and returned his attention toward Hermione.

Ron was actually shaking – though neither Harry nor Hermione was sure of the reason behind the nervous fidgeting of the young man – when he said, "Next time then, Hermione," and before Hermione could reply – to turn down Ron in the most humiliating way that she could think of – Ron turned away from them and _ran_ toward the direction of the school.

For a few moments, Harry and Hermione could do nothing but stare at the rapidly disappearing back of the red haired boy, but once he had disappeared, Harry turned his attention toward Hermione, "I'm taking you to the village this weekend?" he asked.

Hermione blushed a bright crimson red that was impossible to miss, and miss it, Harry did not. Still, unlike Ron, Hermione was able to form sentences, and unlike Ron, being around Harry had given her confidence that she always thought she would never have, "I would like you to," she admitted.

Harry stared at her for a few moments, before he smiled and said, "I'm sure I could convince General Arnott to allow me some leave time for the weekend."

**Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Near Inverness**

**Scotland, British Isles, Holy Empire of Britannia**

**October 19, 1995**

Albus knew that the meeting that was next on his schedule would be one of the most stressful ones he would have for the day, if not the week. Not only would the topic of this meeting be something that would remind him of his headache in addition to make it ache once more, but also he would be having that discussion with a man that the Headmaster of Hogwarts had always felt should _not_ have graduated Hogwarts in the first place.

The Headmaster turned his attention toward his pensieve, the golden bowl etched with runes and the silvery white liquid that it held within sat behind the open doors of a brown non-descript cabinet that everyone who had been up to this office had assumed was nothing more but another cabinet in a room that was full of many.

With a simple thought of his mind, the Headmaster managed to close the doors of the cabinet. It would do no one well – least of all the Headmaster himself – if his guests were to see what he was keeping behind those doors. After all, pensieves, while wonderful items that could probably help in most everyday cases, are also wondrously rare. The Headmaster had no doubt that, given the position of the people that he was going to meet with, those same people would use their relative authority to confiscate the item.

The Headmaster was torn from his self-imposed reverie at almost the exact same moment that he went into it when he heard a faint gong that seemed to come from nowhere echoing around the room. It was his proximity ward, one that warned him if and when the gargoyle that was the guardian to his office had been activated. That meant that someone was on their way up to the office of the Headmaster, and as if to lend further credence to that already sure proposition, another ward went off in the head of the Headmaster, this time, the one that he had placed on his moving staircase, one that warned him when the moving spiral staircase had activated and was even now bringing guest up to his floor.

'_The next ward would be the one at the door,'_ the Headmaster thought to himself, and sure enough, it was that ward that went off a few moments later the moment that his staircase ward had informed him that the moving stairs had stopped.

The ward that the Headmaster had placed at the door was sensitive enough that it could not only tell how many people are waiting outside his door, it could also tell him the identities of those people just from their magical signature. In his long life, Albus had met a lot of people, and it was one of his greatest strengths, remembering the unique magical signature of a person that he had met, a side-effect of his powerful Occulumencary shields.

Albus had expected the magical signature of his Deputy, after all, he was the one who had asked for her presence in the first place. The Headmaster had expected their guest for the afternoon to lose his temper, and Minerva had always had a calming effect on their guest, if only because said guest had often found himself pinned by the glare of the transfiguration professor – the position that Minerva held back when their guest for the afternoon was still a student of the school.

The other magical signature was also one that the Headmaster had expected. It seemed strange that the man who owns the magical signature was supposed to be the most politically powerful man in the whole of Magical Britain when his magical signature indicated that the power that he possesses was no better than a talented seventh year at Hogwarts. Nevertheless, for better or worse, Cornelius Fudge is the Minister of Magic for Magical Britain.

The third signature was one that the Headmaster had not expected, but he supposed that he should have known that she would be coming as well. The magical signature of Amelia Bones – Director of the Department for Magical Law Enforcement – was equal to that of Minerva, but that was hardly surprising. As the head of the law enforcement arm of the magical government, Amelia had control of the Aurors, the Hit-Wizards, the Obliviators, ordinary patrolmen from the Magical Patrol, and Azkaban Island. In fact, the only arm of the magical government with combat abilities that Amelia does not control is the Department of Mysteries, but that Department was not under the control of _anyone_, not even the Chief Warlock.

That the topic of the supposed meeting between the Minister and the Chief Warlock was the death of one Gregory Goyle has probably been circulated amongst the members of the Ministry, and Amelia probably thought that part of her job was to investigate this case, hence, the reason that she had invited herself for this trip.

The knock on the door tore the Headmaster out of his self-imposed reverie, and once more displaying his raw magical ability, the Headmaster managed to open the door with just a thought that came from his mind.

The door slid open to reveal three faces of varying expressions. The Minister looked shocked at what had happened, but the Headmaster supposed that that was to be expected. Cornelius had always been one who was shocked by trivial things and worry over them constantly as well. In fact, the Headmaster considered, he would be more surprised if the Minister had not been taken aback by the display.

Albus had to admit to himself that that was the reason behind the display in the first place, to place the Minister of Magic in a position of awe and from there, the Headmaster could work a different kind of magic on the Minister.

Amelia looked neutrally at the exercise, and the Headmaster was sure that if he would take a risk and peek into the mind of Amelia – not that Albus would do that, the woman has very impressive mind-shields, built by years of practice and combat experience – he would see that the reason that she was not impressed was because the Director would have concluded that there was a ward whose function would be just to open the door.

Minerva looked unconcerned as well, but unlike Amelia, the Deputy held the look of one who was not impressed, and again, the Headmaster realized that he should have expected that. Minerva could probably do the same thing that the Headmaster had just done without any outward movement, but it would take a lot out of her.

"Albus," the voice of his Deputy tore the Headmaster out of his reverie, and he was forced to focus all of his attention toward his guests, "The Minister and the Director would like to speak with you."

"Of course," Albus replied, he stood from his seat and warmly welcomed his guests into his office. Once everyone was seated, Albus whipped out his prized wand and with a simple flick of his wrist, he caused a tea set that had been on the surface of a nearby end table to fly toward them, the tea server pouring tea into the tea cups as it did. Gracefully, the now filled cups landed on the desk of the Headmaster with one cup for each of the person who was seated around the table.

"Headmaster," Cornelius began politely, but Albus could already see the hostility behind the eyes of the Minister.

"Cornelius," Albus replied, fully aware that by using the first name of the Minister, he was enraging the man, but that was exactly what the Headmaster wanted at that moment, to enrage the Minister so that they could drop the act and head straight to the important matters that had to be discussed.

It worked, probably a little too well, because at that moment, the Minister suddenly shot to his feet, and said, with a hostile finger pointed straight at the Headmaster, "You let the scion of an old pureblood family die under your watch," the Minister accused.

Albus allowed a few tendrils of his control to snap, resulting to a flare of magic that – when the Minister caught whiff of it – caused the Minister to return to his seat, in a rather hurried fashion.

"What would you have done had you been in my position, Cornelius?" the Headmaster asked, allowing his anger – anger at this pompous minister, anger at the fact that he was disturbing him, but most of all, anger at the fact that he was forced to stand down by a force that he does not understand – to lace his words. It had the effect that the Headmaster had hoped for as the Minister of Magic visibly winced after the Headmaster had finished his words.

There was a pregnant pause – and both Albus and the Minister absently noted that Minerva and Amelia just sat there as if nothing was happening and continued to sip on their tea – before the Minister managed to move again. Cornelius looked as if he wanted to say something, but before he could do so, the Headmaster cut him off again, "I was under the Oath," the Headmaster replied, and seeing the goofy expression on the face of the Minister, the Headmaster of Hogwarts fought the urge to slap himself in the face in reaction to the obvious fact that the Minister had no idea what he was talking about.

It actually disturbed the Headmaster had graduated from Hogwarts without knowing that, never mind becoming the Minister of Magic, but the Headmaster still did not make any plans to remove their history professor despite the fact that he knew that Binns – the history professor – had something to do with the huge black hole in the mind of their Minister.

"We swore an Oath to follow the Golden Throne and the representatives of whoever it is that sat on that throne on the pain of losing our magic and our lives," the Headmaster said.

"But…," the Minister of Magic began, clearly unable to comprehend the reason behind the decision to swear the oath. Albus knew why. Despite the fact that he was a bumbling idiot, Cornelius was afflicted by a disease, a disease that every member of a pureblood family in Magical Britain has in abundance, aside from the fact that they are fast losing their magic every generation, and they are not even aware of it.

That disease is an inbred – and almost genetic – contempt for muggles and the muggle-born. Cornelius might not be a die-hard supporter like the Malfoy – or even the Goyle – family is, but for someone who had grown up during the early years of the Franco-Prussian War, the simultaneous Great European Magical War, and the subsequent Rise of Dark Lord Voldemort, it was expected that he was a believer in blood prejudice.

The Headmaster of Hogwarts actually sighed before he focused all of his attention toward the Minister, his mind already turned on to lecture mode. The Headmaster was about to tell the Minister of Magic something that the Minister should have known in the first place, the reason why they swore an Oath to the Golden Throne. Albus only prayed that he does not have to explain to the Minister that despite the fact that muggles possess not an iota of magic in their bodies, a single muggle would always be more powerful than a single witch or wizard, no matter how powerful said witch or wizard was. That would just make the day of the Headmaster, and revealing that there are _millions_ of muggles for one witch or wizard was not helping matters in any way.

**Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Near Inverness**

**Scotland, British Isles, Holy Empire of Britannia**

**October 19, 1995**

Unknown to the Headmaster – Albus Dumbledore may be powerful but not even he could know everything happening around him – there were actually more than two guests inside the castle that afternoon, and that was not counting the three thousand soldiers or the ten cadets that were now actually setting up semi-temporary shelter near the Black Lake.

The aristocratic appearance of Lucius Malfoy – self-declared Lord of the Malfoy family – was reinforced by the fact that he had a walking stick tucked underneath his left arm despite the fact that he has no need for it. For those who knew the Malfoy lord, they knew that his wand – ingrained with an ivory casing – was hidden inside that cane, but aside from that, there really was no need for the stick, Lucius just like to be seen with one since it reinforce his image as a noble, despite the fact that Lucius knew that he is not.

The fact that he was not a noble despite having the appearance of one was not the reason that the blond former Slytherin Head Boy was at Hogwarts that morning. He had heard that the Minister – he had been close friends with the Minister after all the donations that he had given to charities with the Minister – was visiting the school to discuss some important matters, matters that are known only to the Department Heads and the Headmaster himself. Lucius knew what that matter was five minutes after he met with the Minister, Cornelius never could keep his mouth shut, especially when asking for advice.

Lucius may be a pureblood supremacist of the die-hard kind, but even he had to admit that the efficient and quick way that the Prince had disposed of his attackers was impressive. Lucius had to admit that not even the Dark Lord that he had served under during the First Rise could have been as efficient in warning possible opponents of the futility of fighting against him, though Lucius took a bit of a consolation from the fact that the Prince had the power of the Oath to back him up.

Unlike Cornelius, Lucius had taken the time to study the matter, and what he had found was not to his liking. If forced to admit, the blond, aristocratic, former Slytherin would admit that he not only did not like what he had found, he found it to be so unsettling that he had to go to his former school today.

He was lucky that Cornelius and Amelia are going, but unlike the two senior members of the Ministry, Lucius – who was not really a member of the Ministry – was not going to Hogwarts with the intention of ripping the Headmaster a new one. No, the reason that Lucius was here was to warn his only son against further baiting the muggles that are outside the school.

Lucius had seen the muggles up close, he had to walk near their camp. He was aware of the capabilities of the muggle soldiers that are now guarding the school, but more importantly, he was aware that the stupid plan that had gotten the scion of an old pureblood family – despite the fact that it was not an important family in the first place – was the brainchild of his only son.

That was the reason that Lucius was here at school, to warn his son in the hopes that Draco may live to see his graduation and see the rebirth of the Dark Lord so that he may retake his proper place as a servant of the Dark Lord. Draco could not do that if he was lying on the floor in a pool of his own blood, exactly as Gregory Goyle had ended his life.

The portrait that was the guardian for the Slytherin common room speaking to him tore Lucius out of his reverie, but the blond former Head Boy ignored the painting. The painting stared at him for a few moments before it was forced to swing to the side as Draco exited the common room, his godfather and Head of House, Severus Snape – a friend and associate of Lucius and who had entered Hogwarts when Lucius himself was fifth year Prefect – behind him.

"Father," Draco was surprised when his godfather had come to get him, but his father in front of him quickly made the younger Malfoy forget his surprise at the actions of his Head of House.

"Draco," Lucius said, curtly inclining his head toward his son. Draco looked ready to open his mouth – no doubt to ask Lucius what he was doing in the school, Draco could be slow sometimes, Lucius was forced to admit – but before he could do so, the older Malfoy said, "I've come here to warn you, because I know that my letter would not be enough."

"Warn me?" a confused Draco asked, he turned his attention toward his Head of House, but Severus kept his attention toward Lucius and was actually doing his best to ignore the fact that he was not alone in the hallway at the moment.

"Yes," Lucius said, forcing his son to return his attention toward him, "I know that you are behind the attack against the Prince, and while your initiative is to be commended, such a move was foolish, to say the least."

Draco looked ready to protest, but before he could open his mouth, his Head of House got into his case, "You saw the effect that it had when the Prince invoked the Oath," he said, "Do you want to feel that feeling again?"

'_That feeling of dread and helplessness? That was them? I thought that it was the magic of the castle preventing violence,'_ Draco thought to himself.

His self-reflection prevented the younger Malfoy from noticing that while he was musing to himself, his father and godfather had turned to look at each other. No words were passed between Lucius and Severus, but there really was no need. With a subtle nod, Severus signaled to Lucius that the hallway was clear, no one was listening to them, and for what the older Malfoy was about to reveal, absolute secrecy is a must.

Lucius realized that he might be letting go of that absolute secrecy by telling his son in the first place, but he also knew that if Draco is not cut off at that moment, the boy was likely going to cause another incident. Despite the death of the scion of an old pureblood family, the incident that had forced Lucius to take this trip in the first place was actually mild compared to what both Lucius and Severus had imagined would be the result of open rebellion against the Golden Throne and its representatives.

"We're leaving the British Isles," Lucius said a few moments later and as he had expected, that news caught the ear of his son. Why should it not? Britain was the only place that Draco had known as home, even if the boy was contemptuous of nearly everyone he had met here.

"Why?" the boy managed to ask.

This time, Lucius debated with himself on whether or not the boy was ready to learn the reason behind the self-imposed exile that the family was going to go to, and he decided that Draco should at least know, "The situation is changing, Draco," Lucius said, "The muggles are turning their attention toward us, we are not sure what they are going to do next, it is far better to abandon a sinking ship than to drown when the ship sinks."

Draco looked confused, but he still managed to ask a rather intelligent question, "The other families are joining us?" he asked.

At that point, Lucius had no choice but to reveal the information, "Yes," he admitted, "I cannot tell you just where yet, or when, but it is happening."

"Draco, you realize that you cannot tell anyone about this," Severus injected himself into the conversation, "If Dumbledore, or the muggles, caught wind of this, they could stop us, and that would prove problematic."

Draco could only nod and a few moments later, was forced to say goodbye to his father as both Lucius and Severus dismissed him. Once the two men are sure that Draco was inside and that the doors were closed, they turned toward each other, "Have they even agreed?" Severus asked.

Lucius nodded gravely, "They had," he replied, but despite that, he still looked worried and before Severus could ask the reason behind the evident worry that was etched on his face, the former Slytherin Head Boy replied, "It's not as smooth sailing as I had expected, or hoped, but at least the Prussian Empire is willing to provide us sanctuary, in exchange for a few promises on our part, magically-binding oaths."

**Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Near Inverness**

**Scotland, British Isles, Holy Empire of Britannia**

**October 19, 1995**

"So, you're suspicious of the motives behind the red-haired lad asking out your fair lady to the village, hence, the reason why you asked the general permission to accompany her this weekend." Edward asked as he and Harry – with their wands out – patrolled the seventh floor corridor.

"Yes, that was what I told the general," Harry replied, barely hiding his irritation at his old friend, but Edward either ignored the barely hidden irritation or did not see it.

"That has got to be the lamest excuse for a permission to go to a date that I had ever heard in my life," the other naval cadet said, mirth dripping from every word that he had uttered. Harry looked ready to take offense, but before he could say anything, his friend added, "I think the general would have given you outright permission if you had been honest with him."

Harry fought the urge to smack his friend in the temple. The truth was, while Harry had said exactly that when he asked permission from the general, he had also shared his misgivings about the reason why Ron had asked Hermione _now_. Harry suspected that it had something to do with the Headmaster, but General Arnott was not one to give permission just because it was asked.

The commander of 'C' Brigade told Harry that he would get back on him regarding that, after Harry had finished his scheduled patrol on the seventh floor corridor, the exact place where their source from within the castle had assured them was the location of a certain hidden room where they would find their objective.

Already, Harry and Edward had passed through the same corridor twice, and they were about to pass through it for the third time when Edward decided to bring up the fact that Harry had asked permission from their commanding officer.

"Maybe, maybe not," Harry commented off-handedly as he and his partner passed through the tapestry of some wizard trying to teach trolls how to dance. Edward and Harry had found it funny, but for the life of them, could not find out the reason why it was there in the first place.

That did not stop the two cadets from stopping in front of it to laugh at it again, however.

"Hey Harry," Edward said a few moments after they had stared at the tapestry, "You won't believe this, but…"

Harry turned toward his friend and saw that the other cadet was staring at something behind them. Harry followed the gaze of his friend and nearly dropped his wand in shock at what he saw.

There was a door in front of them, and it was in a place where both Harry and Edward could have sworn was nothing but an empty wall when they passed by here during their earlier rounds.

A smile, however, crept up the face of Harry, "We found it," he announced.


	9. Chapter IX

**A/N: **I do not own Harry Potter or anything associated with it.

* * *

**A/N2: **My apologies for the late update. This was supposed to be sent up on the 19th, but personal circumstances had delayed the completion of the chapter.

* * *

**NINE**

**Wentworth Woodhouse, Yorkshire, England**

**British Isles, Holy Empire of Britannia**

**October 21, 1995**

Armed guards patrolled the perimeter of the large house that seem to stand in the middle of nowhere at regular intervals. Every now and then, a dog patrol – two men armed with assault rifles, one of whom had the leash of an attack dog on his hand – could be seen roving the grounds as well, though their coming and going was not as rare as the coming and going of two armored personnel carriers that were running racing patterns around the estate. Above, unseen but undeniably heard, a pair of naval fighters also trace racing patterns as they carry out their combat air patrol over the newly designated temporary headquarters of the Grand Fleet.

Inside one of the larger rooms of the house that was widely acknowledged as the largest privately owned home in the British Isles and Europe, nearly a dozen people were seated at a large rectangular table. Most of the people inside were wearing the dress uniform of the Imperial Fleet, but there are at least three people inside who were wearing clothes that would be considered civilian, and one of them was seated at the head of the table.

The number of people wearing the black tailcoat uniform of the Imperial Navy – standard day dress of flag-grade officers, admirals above – however, clearly outnumbered those wearing either civilian clothing or those wearing the blue double-breasted coat – standard day dress of every other office in the Imperial Navy below field-grade rank – of the Imperial Navy. It was obvious that inside the room, the high command of the Imperial Navy in the British Isles – Lord Alexander's powerful Grand Fleet – was gathered.

Lord James, Viscount of Lisbourne, allowed his gaze to wander around the room. He had been told that Lord Alexander had chosen the house as his temporary headquarters for he had no love of returning to London and giving the impression that he is dictating to the civilian government that had been in place even before his appointment as Prince of Wales and Prince of Scotland.

The room that they were in right now was one of the larger rooms in the house and functioned as a meeting room back when the British Isles was still part of the United Kingdom and the owner of the house was still a part of the now defunct Whig Party. It made sense that now – nearly a hundred years later – it would be performing the same function, albeit for a different political party and a different government.

James returned his gaze to what was in front of him and suppressed a sigh. Beside him, his wife – none too gently – kicked his sheens under the table, earning a sharp gasp from James though he refused to make a public scene, and instead, the Viscount turned his attention toward his wife with a questioning look, but for a reply, Lily merely inclined his head toward the head of the table where their liege lord was seated, also absently poking on the food in front of him.

Beside the Prince of Scotland and the Prince of Wales, Lady Emma was subtly observing what her fiancée was doing. There was a hint of an amused smile on the face of the Marchioness as she continued to watch the Prince, but like James and Lily, Lady Emma was not going to say anything, at least, not in front of all of these people.

James turned his attention away from the head of the table and toward the people in front of him. The current occupants of the table were arranged in such a way that the military and civilian supporters of the Prince were on one side, and the members of the civilian government were on the other.

James focused his attention on the man who was seated at the first chair of the civilian government side and politely inclined his head toward the man. The graying top of the head of James Frederick Monroe was well known even to those who would profess to be against the Holy Empire, if only for the fact that the man is the prime minister of the British Isles.

A lawyer turned politician and an ardent supporter of the limited form of democracy that was in place in the British Isles, there are rumors that the man was pushing for more autonomy for the British Isles, increased diplomacy with the Prussian Empire, and even a completely independent Britain from the Holy Empire. It was not surprising to see that the man was not entirely comfortable at being too close with the man who represents the power of the Golden Throne in the British Isles.

Nevertheless, the man seemed affable enough during the small conversations that he had with Lord Alexander and Lady Emma while they were having dinner, though now that dinner was over, James realized that the real reason for the meeting that Lord Alexander had called for was about to be brought out, and the Viscount – unaware what that topic is – was not sure how the prime minister would react.

'_Perhaps that is the reason why the brass of the Grand Fleet is here in force,'_ James thought to himself as he turned his attention toward the people who were seated at _his_ side of the table.

James and Lily occupied the first two seats at their side, a testament to the fact that they are the highest ranking nobles in their side, but immediately beside Lily – and extending down to the end of the table – are men wearing military uniforms. As if that was not enough, the amount of triangles and diamonds in the room was staggering, and James wondered if there was actually a staff or flag-grade officer from the Grand Fleet left with the ships.

At some unspoken signal that only Lord Alexander – and probably Lady Emma – was aware of, the Prince placed his utensils on the top of his plate. It scarcely took five seconds before a waiting staff approached Lord Alexander and offered to take the half-full plate in front of him.

The fact that Lord Alexander had asked for his plate to be cleared was a signal to everyone else in the table that dinner was now over and the reason that they are all here was about to begin. It took another five minutes before the table has been cleared well enough – plates were gone, but the cups of coffee were still there – for the meeting to begin.

As was usual, it was Lord Alexander who spoke first, "Gentlemen," he said, before a smile graced his face, "and ladies," he added. Since there are only two ladies that would be taking part in this briefing – Lady Emma and Lily – his addendum was forgiven.

"Lady Emma and I had received an order from the capital," Lord Alexander began, and as the Prince had expected, the murmurings began even before he could explain what the order was about. He was also unsurprised that the loudest gossipers were those who came from the civilian government. His officers may be murmurings amongst themselves, but they at least had the good sense to pretend that they are not.

The Prince allowed the murmurings to carry on for a full minute – there was nothing that he could do even if he tried to stop the murmuring before that full minute, the civilians are not exactly facing him – before he raised his hand in the universal motion for stop. It took another few seconds before they saw him and the room quieted down once more enough for Lord Alexander to speak.

"We – Lady Emma and myself – had been ordered back to the mainland for a few weeks, a month at the most," Lord Alexander said as he inclined his head toward his fiancée, who – unsurprisingly – was not saying anything, rather, the Lady Emma was observing everyone else in the table in her own subtle way.

This time, there were no murmurings and Lord Alexander continued, "We do not know the reason why we had been asked to return to the mainland," he said, "We just received the order to return to the mainland," a smile came across his face before he glanced at his fiancé and added, "We are sure that it's not about our impending marriage."

There were smiles along the ranks of Lord Alexander's military supporters, but there was nothing but confusion amongst the ranks of the government officials, a confusion that Lord Alexander pointedly ignored as it was not worth his time, and besides, he had expected the confusion on their faces.

"In my absence," Lord Alexander continued, "Admiral Dalton would be in command of the Grand Fleet, as is his right per the hierarchy of command within the fleet."

The man whom Lord Alexander named nodded as he accepted the command of his superior officer. At fifty one years of age, Admiral Daniel William Dalton – who has his flag aboard the _Duke_-class battleship _HMS Black Prince_ – is the admiral – second-in-command – of the Grand Fleet. A career battleship officer with more than forty years experience with the battlewagons of war including at least ten in commanding one, he is the senior-most officer in the Grand Fleet, and has nominal command of the battleship line – forty five dreadnoughts – of the Grand Fleet.

"Lord James Potter, Viscount of Lisbourne, would be acting in my capacity as Prince of Scotland and Prince of Wales while I am in Pendragon," Lord Alexander continued as he turned his gaze toward James who nodded his acknowledgement of the order.

"Prime Minister," Lord Alexander continued as he turned his attention toward the head of the semi-democratic government of the British Isles, "In my absence, I would request that you course to Lord James any business that would require my approval as Prince of Scotland and Prince of Wales."

"Of course, Your Highness," the Prime Minister replied as he inclined his head toward Lord Alexander in ascent. As the Prince of two of the four core territories of the British Isles – and with those other two not having their own princes – the approval of Lord Alexander is normally required when parliament would pass a law national in character, especially if said law was penal in nature. It was something that the British Parliament was not used to given the fact that Lord Alexander had only been recently appointed to his principality.

In fact, Lord Alexander was reasonably certain that the man resented his authority, but the Prince was well aware of the rumors behind the man that the parliament had chosen to lead them, and this was but an attempt to remind the man that no matter how powerful he thinks he is, he is still subject to the rule of the Golden Throne, and in the British Isles, the Throne is represented by Lord Alexander.

"Lord James," Lord Alexander said as he turned his attention toward the highest ranking – actually, the only one – noble in the room, "In my absence, I trust that you would be able to act in my stead, and in this regard, I am going to make available the assistance of Rear Admiral Ashford," – Lord Alexander turned his attention toward his chief advisor who stood at the mention of his name – "who would be staying behind while the rest of my staff would be joining me for the trip."

James inclined his head toward his liege lord before he turned his attention toward the admiral. Rear Admiral Ashford had a neutral look on his face that made it difficult for James to consider whether or not the man was resentful at being left behind, but James realized that the Prince must have already spoken with his chief advisor before he made the announcement; it was what the Prince would do.

A few moments later, the Prince dismissed the meeting, and everyone in the room stood after their Prince and his fiancé. James and Lily followed suit and bowed while Lord Alexander escorted Lady Emma out of the room. James would have considered staying behind and mingling with the people who were still inside the room, had it not been for the fact that the moment that Lord Alexander and Lady Emma had left the room, Rear Admiral Ashford approached him and told them that Lord Alexander was waiting at an antechamber so that they could have a private meeting.

Nodding, James and Lily followed the Admiral, unaware of the looks that Prime Minister Monroe was shooting them as they walked out of the room.

The antechamber that Rear Admiral Ashford led James and Lily into was only a few degrees smaller than the chamber from where they had came from. It seemed roomier than the other chamber though, an illusion brought about by the fact that there are very few portraits in this room, and most of the things inside the room were comfy sofas, chairs, and end tables. It was precisely in one of these comfy sofa-chairs that James found Lord Alexander.

The Prince was seated beside Lady Emma – although that was not surprising, in fact, it would have been more surprising if he was not seated beside her – who held his left hand while his right hand played with the teaspoon on his coffee. Around the couple, a number of officers – they were all wearing the Imperial military uniform – were gathered, seated in their own seats with not quite a few of them sipping their own coffee cups.

"James," Lord Alexander greeted the man he had appointed to act in his stead as James and Lily took their designated seats at the same time that he stopped playing with the teaspoon on his coffee. As soon as James, Lily, and Rear Admiral Ashford were seated, the Prince turned his attention toward his chief-of-staff and with a curt nod, he signaled for Vice Admiral Cline to begin.

"My Lord, My Lady," Vice Admiral Cline began, politely greeting James and Lily, "Gentlemen," and that greeting was for everyone else in the room save for the Prince and the Marchioness, "We have a situation."

'_Hence the reason that we are all here, Admiral Cline,'_ James thought to himself, but the Viscount of Lisbourne refrained from voicing that out loud, especially since James knew that the Vice Admiral was only the opening act.

The Viscount turned his attention away from the speaker so that he may study the faces of the men who were gathered inside the room. James recognized Admiral Dalton as amongst those who were gathered, at the same time that James recognized Admiral Arthur Bingham.

The man in charge of the battlecruisers – fifteen ships – of the Grand Fleet and third-in-command of the Grand Fleet after Lord Alexander and Admiral Dalton, fifty year old Admiral Arthur Bingham was a career cruiser officer with more than ten years experience with battlecruisers. Recently appointed commander of the battlecruiser squadron of the Grand Fleet, the Admiral brings with him years of experience as a sailor, commander, and fleet officer from all around the world.

"Although I've told the civilians that I have no idea why we are being called back," Lord Alexander began, and his action caused James to abandon his intent to study the faces of the men that were gathered inside the room with them, focusing his gaze instead on the face of his liege lord. James turned his attention toward Lord Alexander just in time to watch as the man admitted, "I have a few rough ideas as to why I had been called back."

For her part, Lily was about to remind the Prince that the Marchioness had been recalled as well, but before the Countess could say anything, by chance, she shifted her gaze toward Lady Emma. Lily blinked and would have gasped when she realized that it was only Lord Alexander who had been recalled, Lady Emma was just tagging along, as was expected of her.

That realization caused Lily to relax back at her seat, and she allowed her back to land gently on the cushion that was built into the backrest of the chair. Beside her, her husband was doing anything but, and Lily was more than prepared to bet that James was ready to join the growing number of admirals who were nervously fidgeting amongst themselves as they waited for the next words that would come out of the mouth of their General-Admiral.

"My strongest hunch," Lord Alexander began as soon as he had replaced his coffee cup on the surface beside him after he had drunk from it, "is that it has something to do with the succession."

Lord Alexander could not have commanded his men to look at each other, but that was precisely the effect of his announcement. Military officers wearing the triangles of staff-grade and the diamonds of flag-grade officers turned to look at each other as if trying to confirm if they had heard the announcement of their commanding officer properly. It would have taken only one voice from one random person before the queries would turn verbal, but Lord Alexander was aware of that, and the Prince moved to prevent anyone from the gathered from voicing anything.

"It is common knowledge that the Crown Prince is suffering from an advantage stage of heart disease," Lord Alexander said, "These past three years alone, he had been to the hospital twice for serious surgery, one of them an open-heart bypass."

Lord Alexander was, of course, correct. The frequent visit of Crown Prince Richard York to the hospital was known to everyone who would bother to pick up a paper every morning. Everyone was also aware that the Empress was deathly worried about the succession because of it, and, finally, everyone knew that while the Empress favored her son to succeed her, the same could not be said for the son of her son. It was fairly common knowledge amongst the staff at the Crystal Palace that the Empress prefers that Lord Alexander – not his younger cousin, the son of Crown Prince Richard, Archduke Edward of Rosenbaum – succeed her throne should Prince Richard not be able to do it.

It was also a very real possibility given the health of the Crown Prince compared to the health of the Empress, and the fact that the Empress had already buried three children.

"In any case," Lord Alexander said, causing the impending speculation to stop even before it could begin, "that is not the reason that I asked for all of you here today," he turned his attention toward James and said, "Lord James, I fear that the news of my departure from these isles might be taken by our enemies that they would have free reign over these isles."

"My Lord," James formally replied, "between Admiral Ashford, myself, and the officers and men of the Grand Fleet as well as those of the Imperial Armed Services that would stay behind, I am sure that we could handle any threat."

Lord Alexander stared at James for a few moments, a neutral expression obvious on his face. Finally, after a few moments, he nodded, "I would trust you with this, as I had trusted you in many other things, Lord James," he said, and before anyone could say anything, the Prince added, "but I worry about the magicals at Hogwarts."

"Sir," Rear Admiral Ashford entered the conversation, "We already have a contingency to put into effect should the magicals at Hogwarts break the Oath while you are absent from the isles."

"Really?" Lord Alexander seemed surprised by the declaration of his chief advisor, and that was all that James needed to see in order to know that his liege lord was not aware of the plan of his chief advisor, "tell me about it," Lord Alexander ordered.

**Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Near Inverness**

**Scotland, British Isles, Holy Empire of Britannia**

**October 22, 1995**

There was a smile on the face of Hermione as she approached the Great Hall of Hogwarts that morning. The young girl might be clutching her book bag right now – because Harry, who would have insisted to be the one to carry it, was nowhere in sight – but she knew for a fact that the young man who was the reason for the smile on her face to be there would be joining her before the start of her first class for this morning.

Not even the fact that she was scheduled to have potions with the Slytherins today would remove the smile on her face, not that it really mattered since Professor Snape, despite his reputation among her fellow Gryffindors, generally ignore her. Hermione would not speculate as to the reason for that however, and in any case, she was not really thinking about that as she walked past the four counters that represent the current standing in the yearly House Cup.

Hermione was thinking about her future. It might not be specifically about Harry, but he was there. The most prominent thought in the mind of Hermione at that moment, however, are the institutions of higher learning that she had dreamed of attending, but had nearly given up on when she learned that she was a witch.

The unusual situation that had brought Harry into her life had also brought his parents into her life, and it was his parents that brought the prospect of Hermione attending prestigious schools in the mainland Britannia into her life. The young woman could barely stifle the giggle that threatened to come out of her mouth as she thought about how she would feel like when the time comes for her to be carrying her books as she crossed the threshold of Columbia University – the same school where Harry graduated his secondary education – or even as she walked across the hallowed halls of Harvard or Yale.

In fact, Hermione was so engrossed in imagining what it would feel like when that time finally comes – and she knew that that time would come, she was not sure exactly when she had reached her decision last night, but that she had made the decision to accept the offer of Lily Potter was a given – that she failed to see the malevolent look that was so obvious on the faces of her junior classmates as they espied her walking into the hall.

At the head of a make-shift contingent of young girls was a red-haired lass who looked at Hermione as she walked into the hall with undisguised contempt written on her face. Ginevra Weasley – more commonly known to everyone at the school as Ginny – may have been punished once for a failed attempt at humiliating Hermione, but like most of her red-haired family, she was not one to give up after one – or actually, a hundred or even a thousand – setback.

It was precisely for the reason of humiliating the brunette Gryffindor who stands at the head of her year that Ginny had gathered the horde that was gathered around her, watching with obviously malicious intentions every move that Hermione made and will make as she walked into the Great Hall.

Ginny led her contingent into the Great Hall the moment that Hermione entered, and just as Hermione had not noticed her group as they watched her with malevolent eyes, Ginny and her group failed to notice that another group was watching them, but unlike Ginny and her group, the group that was watching them only had confused expressions on their faces as they had no idea what the red-head has planned. Unfortunately for Harry – who was leading the third group – he missed the malevolent look that Ginny and her group was giving an unaware Hermione.

There was no doubt that if he had seen, Harry would already be doing something about it rather than just standing there and staring at what he was sure was not something that occurs inside the school in an everyday basis with nothing but a confused look on his face. Beside him, his fellow cadets also had no idea what was happening, and the same bewildered look that was on the face of Harry was more obvious on their own faces.

Hermione was about to take her seat at her usual place – it was not that her classmates and housemates would stand and move away from her when she is about to seat, it was just that Hermione found that most people would rather steer away from her – at the end of the table when something happened.

Before the fifth year Gryffindor could take her seat, she was distracted by someone shouting from the direction where she came from. Despite herself, Hermione spun on her heel so that she may turn her attention toward the direction where the sound came from with the intention of investigating what – or who – was making that racket. It was only her reflexes – honed by her recent sessions with Harry – that allowed her to duck just in time as a spell sallied over her head. Had she not ducked, Hermione knew that she would have been hit by that spell, and it chilled her because she did not know what the spell that was sent was.

It also chilled the young Gryffindor because in the five years that she had been at this school, this was the first time that someone sent a spell spiraling directly at her, and with her as the deliberate target. She may have been the target of pranks and bullying before, but no one was vindictive – or stupid – enough to attack her in the Great Hall in the middle of breakfast.

It took Hermione close to five seconds before she had her wand in her hand – an action that caused Hermione to admonish herself, not because she had her wand in her hand, but rather, because it took her that long – and as soon as Hermione had her wand, she pointed it toward the direction where the spell came from with the intention of shooting back.

What she was, however, made her pause.

Harry was already in her line of sight, but he was not facing her, rather, it was clear that the leader of the naval cadets had his attention focused on a petite red-haired girl who was shaking at her feet. That Harry could be this intimidating was not something that Hermione had considered before, yet the evidence was clearly in her eyes. It was happening in front of her.

Before Hermione could say anything, however, the words that echoed around the hall made her pause, first, because it did not came from Harry, rather, it came from Ginny, and second, because the words that came out of the mouth of the red-haired menace clearly showed that she did not think she did anything wrong despite the fact that it was obvious that Ginny was the one who fired the spell.

'_It's always her,'_ Hermione thought to herself, but she dare not voice that out loud because she wanted to listen.

"Harry, dearest," Ginny began, and that overly sweet tone that Ginny had used to speak with Harry nearly made Hermione gag – nearly. The truth was, the moment that Hermione heard the overly sweet tone that Ginny had used, she gripped her wand tighter as she subconsciously muttered under her breath the most painful prank curses that she could think of using against Ginny as soon as Harry was out of the way.

The next actions of Harry caused Hermione to stop what she was doing as she – and the rest of the school including those who were with the group that Ginny had gathered for this occasion – could only stare as Harry meticulously removed the glove that he was wearing on his right hand – which he always takes off whenever he is going to hold the hand of Hermione – before he raised his right hand.

Hermione would have yelled at Harry to stop because she realized what he was about to do before anyone else in the hall could, but there was also a part of Hermione that relished the fact that the red-haired princess was about to get her comeuppance.

The slap was loud as it was strong. Ginny, however, remained at her feet, though she was forced to turn her head in response to the actions of Harry.

For a few moments, the sound of the slap echoed around the hall as no one dared to open their mouth and could only stare at the act that had just happened in silence. Normal service resumed slowly as one by one the students and the teaching staff who had witnessed the event remembered themselves and their stations.

Ron Weasley was one of the first few students that shot to their feet in reaction to the event, but that was not surprising. After all, this was her sister that got slapped in the face. The freckled-faced red-haired youth had his wand in his hand and was about to point it at Harry, a curse already on the tip of his tongue when he paused at the sight of a wand pointed right between his eyes at a distance of five feet, a wand held in place by Cadet Edward Brooke who looked ready to take any excuse that he could take to fire a curse.

The usually jovial Weasley twins – Frederick, commonly known as Fred, and George – were not as quick on the uptake as their youngest brother, though there are those who would later claim that Fred and George refused to move because they thought that their sister deserved it, and as further evidence of that claim, they point out to what the twins did next, which was nothing.

"Ha…Harry," Ginny began as she unconsciously touched her still red face. There were tears forming on her eyes, but Harry stared back at her with his emerald-green eyes as hard as a diamond.

It was clear that Ginny was hurt by the fact that Harry had slapped her and by the fact that Harry was staring at her with such a cold expression. All the hurt that Ginny felt, however, could not compare to the next words that came out of the mouth of Harry, "Attacking a woman with her back turned is despicable," he said, "that this is the second time that you did this in less than a month makes it even more so."

It was at this point that the professors finally decided to intervene. Privately, Professor McGonagall thought that Harry had the right of it, but she still could not afford to be seen as not caring. The Deputy Headmistress made a move to confront the two parties, but before she could take her second step, the loud voice of Ron made everyone in the hall pause once more.

"Potter!" the red-haired boy shouted at the top of his lungs as he did a very good job of ignoring the fact that he was staring at the business end of the wand of the partner of the man that he intended to challenge, "I challenge you to a duel!"

Harry – as did the rest of his fellow cadets – blinked in surprise at the challenge, but before anyone of them could say anything, Ron continued, "A wizards duel, wands only, no contact, for the insult that you had inflicted on my sister."

"Mr. Weasley," Harry replied, his voice cold, but calm, deliberate, and well trained, the voice of someone who had been born into nobility and who had been raised to expect that everything that they said would be done, "Your sister insulted Ms. Granger first, I am defending the honor of this most exceptional young woman whom you had asked to accompany you on a date just yesterday, you should be at my side at this, rather than against it."

Ron obviously ignored the words that came out from the mouth of Harry, "I chose Fred to be my second," he announced.

"Leave George and me out of this," one of the twins – presumably Fred – shouted in automatic response, "He's right, Ginny could have killed Hermione with that spell that she fired."

Ron looked apoplectic that his brothers would not join him to defend their sister, but before he could say anything, Harry returned into the conversation, "Very well," he declared, nodding toward the direction of Ron and silently instructing Edward to lower her hand, an instruction that the other cadet - reluctantly – followed, "Let us have that duel."

"Mr. Potter!" Minerva shouted. She wanted to remind the young lad that he was not of age, and neither is the boy who had challenged him.

"Deputy Headmistress, it is Mr. Weasley who made the challenge," Harry defended himself, "He had waived his defense of minority, and as a condition of my entry into the naval academy, I am an emancipated minor."

Before anyone could say anything, he turned his back toward a thoroughly broken Ginny and made his way to Hermione who was still seated on the floor.

Harry offered his hand to her, and she gave him a grateful smile as she accepted. Harry helped her to her feet before he gently led her out of the Great Hall and – presumably – toward the Hospital Wing.

**Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Near Inverness**

**Scotland, British Isles, Holy Empire of Britannia**

**October 22, 1995**

Albus Dumbledore was fuming, no, scratch that, Albus Dumbledore was mad, and when the Headmaster of Hogwarts and self-declared Leader of the Light was mad, it does not bode well for those who are inside the room with him.

It was not that the Headmaster was prone to cursing the first person that his gaze fell into, it was more a discomfort brought about by the fact that the Headmaster was barely controlling his temper and as a result of this bare control, his magic was leaking out of him slowly.

The reason for the anger that the Headmaster was feeling at that moment was the fact that a duel had been set in his school, and he does not even know that it had happened until after the fact. Even worst, his Deputy Headmistress had allowed the duel to happen without even consulting him, and the only reason that the Headmistress was not the target of the full ire of the Headmaster was the fact that Minerva could more than take care of herself, and had actually forced the Headmaster to back down as she stared at him after the first dressing down.

Inside the office of the Headmaster, the senior staff – as did most other members of the staff – of Hogwarts were seated. Albus Dumbledore was on his feet but had not left his position of authority behind his desk as he surveyed the almost neutral expression – with Minerva being the exemption, but that was not surprising – on the faces of his teachers. The Headmaster had to admit that he would have thought that the professors would be more up in arms about this thing, and it surprised him that he had read the people that he had been working with for a long time that wrongly.

In fact, the portraits of the previous Headmasters of Hogwarts were louder than the living, and most of the portraits are shouting as they tried to make their opinions known. The loudest of the bunch was, of course, Phineas Nigellus, the man who had earned – quite fairly so – the title of 'worst Headmaster of Hogwarts'.

The patriarch of the Black Family – and because of that, he was the patriarch of most of the pureblood families in the British Isles on both sides of the light-dark divide – was screaming his lungs out how Harry and the muggle government was disrespecting magic and was openly advocating for open war with them before his predecessor reminded him that Phineas was Headmaster back when the muggles were still using coal as their primary source of energy. Much has changed since he last took his breath.

"Headmaster," the silky voice of Severus Snape tore Albus from the reverie that he fell into as he tried to come up with a solution that would get him out of the mess that Ronald Weasley had placed him in, because, whether the staff realized it or not, should something happen to Harry Potter, then it would all be their necks on the noose.

Of course, that does not mean that they could allow something to happen to Ron. Molly Weasley – mother of Ronald Weasley – was a formidable opponent on her own when it comes to defending her children, and though Albus was sure that he could best the woman, the Headmaster would rather not divide the light side – of which the Weasleys are big supporters – of the great divide.

"I fail to see any reason why we should be concerned about this," Severus continued the moment that the Headmaster had turned his attention toward the Head of Slytherin House. Albus knew that the man had it easy, as for him, he was in a win-win situation.

Should Harry be harmed in the coming duel, Severus would celebrate as that would mean harm to the son of his great rival James, even if the boy is the son of the lost love of the potions master. In fact, the fact that Harry is the son of her mother would probably cause the sour-faced man to celebrate harder. After all, to Severus, Harry represented everything that he had lost when Lily chose James.

Should Ronald Weasley be harmed in the coming duel, the head of Slytherin would still be celebrating. The Headmaster knew how much Severus hated the boy – and this hatred was brought about not only by the fact that Ron was in Gryffindor and was a Weasley, but also by the fact that Ron is unmotivated in his studies, something that Severus hated with a passion – and any harm done to the 'weasel' as the professor called Ron in private would be a cause for celebration for the man.

How different the reaction of the head of Slytherin house would be if it was one of his snakes who are in danger of not only losing his head, but that of his entire family as well. Of course, Albus doubted that things would turn this serious if one of the Slytherins had been involved in something like this, those snakes never put a toe out of line without the backing of their head of house and – usually – without the head snake to back them up should something go wrong.

"It is obvious to me, Headmaster," Severus continued in his oily voice, once more forcing the Headmaster out of his reverie, though Albus did make a mental note that he now understands why most of the students want to smack the potions master in the face whenever he would speak, "who the winner of the duel would be."

Before anyone could ask the potions master who would be the winner and how he knew, the Slytherin Head of House continued, "Potter had never been to magical school, as incompetent and as stupid as Weasley is, even he could surely best a lad who had not had even the most basic of formal schooling."

The way that Snape said that irked Minerva, but the Deputy held her piece, realizing that there was no need to inform the man that Harry had gone to formal schooling, and if the scuttlebutt that she had heard was true, the Potter heir actually had more formal schooling than the head of Slytherin, but there was no way that she was going to say that, even if it was one of her lions who was in danger of losing his head.

In any case, this was the fault of the two youngest Weasleys. Ginny should not have tried – _again_ – to harm Hermione and Ron should not have jumped into asking Harry into a duel at the very first instance. With a mental sigh, the Deputy Headmistress told herself that her students had made their bed, now they better lie in it on their own.

**Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Near Inverness**

**Scotland, British Isles, Holy Empire of Britannia**

**October 22, 1995**

Harry stood at attention at the head of his contingent of naval cadets as their commanding officer paced back and forth in front of them, a briefing stick in his left hand and was doubling as some sort of crutch despite the fact that it was obvious that right now, Brigadier General Winston Arnott wanted to use that stick to smack Harry and his classmates in the face for getting into a situation that – in the opinion of the commander of 'C' Brigade – they should have avoided.

Aware that there was nothing that could be done about it anymore, the Brigadier General had realized that no matter how much he smacked the cadets in the face and no matter how much he screamed at them, the duel would happen.

That did not stop the Brigadier General from tearing Harry and his classmates a new one, however, and that was exactly what the commander of 'C' Brigade did.

General Arnott stopped his pacing and turned his entire body toward the direction of Harry – who, despite the fact that he cringed, kept his attention – before he asked, "Tell me again why I should not order you and your classmates back to _HMS Britannia_?"

Harry cringed once more – and the commander of 'C' Brigade noted that – but that had more to do with the threat of being sent back to _HMS Britannia_ – the formal name of the Imperial Naval Academy – than the body language of the commander of 'C' Brigade.

"Sir," Harry began in a calm and collected voice, though even he had to admit that he was having a problem keeping his voice calm and collected, "I was defending the honor of the niece of Rear Admiral Granger."

Brigadier General Arnott did not outwardly react, but even he had to admit that Harry had a point there. There was no way that the commander of 'C' Brigade could chew Harry out for that, especially since it had been confirmed that the girl was the target of a deadly curse. In fact, had Harry not accepted the challenge to a duel, not only would General Arnott not be here chewing Harry and his classmates a new one, he would be at his temporary headquarters and would be writing a commendation for the young cadet.

Unfortunately, Harry went above and beyond the call of duty and did something that he was not supposed to do, expose himself and his capabilities to people who may or may not be hostile. Despite the fact that such violation had not happened yet, it was obvious that it would when the duel finally gets underway.

"Do you realize what you had done, Cadet?" the general asked, "Which order that the Prince himself had given you and me that you had violated?"

Harry cringed, and this time, he did not bother to hide his action from his commanding officer. It was only at this juncture that he realized the concern of his commandant and he realized that he had been foolish at ignoring that, "The Prince had ordered us to refrain from showing the students of Hogwarts what we are capable of," he said, horror makings its way up to his face as he finally realized the implications of the duel.

"Are you even sure that this was not just an attempt to get you and your classmates to expose yourselves?" the general continued, "For all we know, this was something that was set up by the Headmaster."

Unfortunately, Harry could not give an answer to that, even if he realized – albeit belatedly – that the general had presented a good question. It was possible that this was just an attempt to get him and his classmates to demonstrate what they are truly capable of, but at the same time, Harry knew that there was no way that they could back out from this duel. The challenge had been given and the challenge had been accepted.

Harry knew that he had to convince his commander and when the next words came out of his mouth, that was already what he was doing, "Sir," Harry began, "the duel…"

Brigadier General Arnott cut him off, "I know that you cannot – and would not – back out of the fight now that it has been declared," he said, raising his hand to forestall anything that Harry was about to say at the same time that he turned his gaze away from the boy, "and I know that it would be useless, stupid, and criminal to order you to limit your output when you are out there fighting for your life, as I understand these duels, but you had overexposed yourself," he shook his head at the same time that Harry mustered himself back into attention.

"I would be writing a report and I am afraid that I would have to recommend that it be appended to your official service record, Cadet," Brigadier General Arnott said, he waved his hand in a 'go-away' motion before he said, "Dismissed."

Harry saluted the commander of the 'C' Brigade at the same time that his classmates did, but just as Harry was about to leave the command tent, the general suddenly said, "For what it is worth, Cadet, good luck."

Momentarily taken aback, Harry blinked before he nodded and offered another salute toward the direction of his commanding officer, "Thank you, sir," he replied.

**Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Near Inverness**

**Scotland, British Isles, Holy Empire of Britannia**

**October 22, 1995**

Hermione was not sure when was the last time that she stayed up late with her dorm mates to discuss things. The young girl could remember when the last time that she stayed up late was, but that last time was just her, and it was just to study.

As she sat Indian-style at the surface of her mattress inside her four-poster bed, Hermione Granger could only stare as her dorm-mates chatted with each other as if they have no care in the world, completely forgetting the fact that at least one person may die tomorrow, and odds are, the person who would be dead tomorrow was not only their class mate, but also their housemate.

Parvarti Patil – the dark-skinned beauty from India who had emigrated to Britain way before she was born – and Lavender Brown – the girl every guy in her year has a crush on – chatted as if that was the only thing that mattered in the world. Normally, Hermione would ignore them as she would focus her attention at whatever book that she was reading and preparing for class the next morning, but the topic of the conversation between the two students right now was not something that Hermione could just ignore.

After all, the topic of the conversation between the two students who had – perhaps rightfully so – earned the moniker of gossip queen was Hermione and her – in the words of the two Gryffindors – 'knight in shining armor', Harry Potter.

It had started on innocently enough with Parvarti commenting to Hermione how fast Harry jumped to her defense, and even going so far as to initiate a duel to protect her, but even before Hermione could reply, Lavender had taken the banner, and the conversation took off from there.

Hermione could only stare as the two girls regaled her with tales of damsels in distress – although Hermione was somewhat mollified when the two admitted that Hermione would never fit in that category – and white knights in the magical world, and Hermione had to admit that for a few moments, she found herself lost in those tales.

The words that next came out from Lavender, however, tore Hermione out of her reverie, "So, Hermione," the sly girl asked in a tone that should have warned Hermione that she was planning something, but Hermione was so into the last story that the blonde had narrated that most of her indicators were turned off as she tried to use them to feel more of the story, "What do you feel about your knight in shining armor?"

"Huh?" Hermione asked as she was forced out of her reverie. There was a confused look on the face of the young woman, and it was a look that was so out of place in her face that it did not look good.

Before Hermione could even think of a response, however, Parvarti jumped into the fray once more. The words that came out of Lavender confused Hermione, but the words that came out of Parvarti shocked Hermione straight into muteness, "Do you love him?" the other half of the gossip queen asked.

Hermione paused as she tried to understand the front and end of the question. Did she love Harry? She does not know the answer to that yet, but what she knew is that she is extremely fond of the naval cadet who waltzed into her life. Perhaps, someday, that fondness would turn into something else, or perhaps it would just fade away, what Hermione was sure as she continued to stare at her housemates and see something that only she could see was only that it would hurt when the time came for Harry to leave, and she fervently hopes that when that time comes, she would follow him.

She was about to tell Parvarti and Lavender about the offer and the fact that she was going to accept it when a sound echoed from outside their dorms. This late in the evening, the sound was unusual, and because of that, the three girls turned their attention toward the direction of the sound, just in time for them to duck as a green spell sallied forth from the dark corner and toward the ceiling of the Gryffindor fifth year girls dormitory, barely missing Hermione who quickly jumped from the surface of her bed and found herself on the floor, her wand at her hand.

Lavender and Parvarti were slower on the uptake – the latter more than the former – but within a minute of the spell being fired, the three girls were crouching behind their beds, their wands at the ready, just as more spell fire sallied into their dorm.

Hermione turned toward her dorm mates with an incredulous expression on her face, an expression that was mirrored on the face of both Parvarti and Lavender as the three realized that war – or at least a skirmish – was upon them, and it was clear who was on the other side of the firing line.


	10. Chapter X

**A/N: **I do not own Harry Potter or anything associated with it.

* * *

**TEN**

**Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Near Inverness**

**Scotland, British Isles, Holy Empire of Britannia**

**October 22, 1995**

The three fifth-year Gryffindor girls huddled behind their strong four-poster beds, their wands at their hands, their eyes focused on the entrance to their dorm, and at the tip of their tongue, the most painful curse – not lethal – that they could think of. That they needed to defend themselves, the three girls were sure.

Hermione found herself as the leader of the group, a position not hers and a position that she realized she does not want. The sixteen year old knew, however, that there was nothing she could do about it. Hermione knew that she was the only one who could be the leader among them because aside from the fact that she knew that this attack is aimed at her, she was the only one who actually knew what they are supposed to do.

Those late afternoon talks with Harry that occasionally strayed into the realm of military tactics is apparently going to prove useful after all – '_and if he were to learn that I admitted that, Harry would not let me hear the end of it,' _Hermione admitted – although she admonished him whenever he would direct the conversation toward that topic.

After the first green spell that none of the three girls could identify – and that barely missed Hermione who had her back turned toward the entrance to their dorms – their attackers had seemed to think twice, for no other spell followed the first. Still, Hermione and the two other girls that found themselves inside the dorms with her were not about to take chances.

'_Still, they do appear to have given up,'_ Hermione thought.

A full five minutes had already passed and nothing was happening, but as if whoever is on the other side of the firing line – _'Oh, who am I kidding?'_ Hermione asked herself, '_It's obvious who is on the other side'_ – was waiting for the five minute mark, at the exact second that the five minute mark was reached, a jet of red light emerged from outside the dorm of the fourth-year Gryffindor girls and sallied toward the dorm. Fortunately, the spell missed, hitting only the ceiling.

Hermione jumped to her feet and without even thinking about it, she whipped her wand and returned the stunner at whomever it was that had fired the spell.

She managed to duck just in time to avoid a torrent of spells – at least half a dozen – that was the response of whomever was on the other side of the line, and Hermione silently remarked to herself that there are at least half a dozen girls – for Hermione knew that there was no way that boys could enter the girls dorms, the security charm would turn the staircase into a slide would have prevented any male from entering the girls dorm, and whomever was on the other side of the firing line was already inside the girls dorm.

'_Then again, that would probably be for the best,'_ Hermione thought as she remembered that the activation of that charm would have alerted their Head of House. She should now be running toward the house to check what was going on. As it stands, Hermione was not even sure if the detection charms in the house could discern between normal spell practice and the fact that there was actually a serious exchange of spells going on.

Hermione watched using the corner of her eyes as Parvarti and Lavender took to their feet and return spell fire. She had always thought that her two dorm mates know nothing outside cosmetic charms, but they had already proven her wrong. Unless Hermione missed her guess – and given that it was an educated guess, she knew that was a slim chance – her dorm mates had both sent the _expulso_ spell toward their attackers.

The spell was designed to blow up a target, so even if it did not hit anybody, it would have caused some damage, and _that_ is for the best, because if it had hit its target, then someone down there was probably bleeding, maybe fatally.

Still, Hermione was not about to signal her dorm mates to tone down on their spells, for it was obvious that whoever was on the other side of the line was not going to bother with it, as the next salvo of spells proved. This time, there was clearly more than half a dozen spells fired toward where Hermione and her dorm mates are huddled, and it was also clear that the attackers are learning. Their spells are aimed lower, so instead of sallying over the heads of the girls and hitting the ceiling, the spells impacted the side of their four-poster beds, often clawing out huge chunks of wood from the four-posters.

The barrage lasted for a good ten seconds before the spell firing stopped. Lavender and Parvarti were about to take to their feet once more to return fire, but this time, Hermione stopped them, unsure of whether or not those at the other end are tired of firing their spells or they were just waiting for the three fourth-year girls to expose themselves.

It turned out for the latter, as barely a few seconds after Hermione had called for her dorm mates to cease and desist, a volley of six _expulso_ charms sallied from the entrance to the fourth-year Gryffindor girls dorm and hit the ceiling causing sawdust and the occasional chunk of wood to rain down the dorm floor.

Parvarti and Lavender turned to each other, and Hermione need not join the two to know that there were shocked looks on the faces of the two girls. Had Hermione not stopped them, they would have been hit. Hermione was sure that aside from the shocked look on the faces of her two classmates, there would also be the telltale fear, but Hermione realized that she could not blame them, not when she was fearful for her own life herself.

Further musings on the part of the three girls had to be placed on hold, however, as they suddenly heard footsteps approaching toward them. The footsteps were light and slow, and it was enough to make Hermione believe that their attackers are taking their time in coming up, possibly because while they believed that their last salvo had caught the fourth-year girls, there was a chance that they could just be playing possum.

The truth was that it was neither. The three girls were just shocked by what had happened, and were still on the verge of recovering from that shock. They would have taken more time to recover had they not heard the footsteps.

A plan formed in the mind of Hermione, and the intelligent girl signaled her classmates to huddle behind their beds once more. Neither Parvarti nor Lavender was sure what Hermione had in mind – and by rights, the two realized that they should be complaining since it was clear that the bushy-haired girl was the target of this attack – but they acceded to the request of Hermione and dropped to their knees.

Soon, the first girl that was part of the attacking force emerged from the darkness that had surrounded the entrance of the fourth-year girl's dorm. She was alone, and she was being cautious, if the fact that she had her wand at the ready position was to be of any indication, but Hermione conceded that that was to be expected. After all, she probably nearly got hit by a lethal spell just a few minutes ago.

From her vantage position at the floor, Hermione realized that her plan to ambush their attackers might not work because they had sent a scout, and already, her mind began to formulate a different plan that she could use in order to gain some sort of advantage.

Fortunately, it was clear that the other girls were impatient, and as soon as five seconds had passed after they had sent their scout forward, the body – or so, Hermione thought – of the attackers rushed the dorm.

An almost feral smile came across the face of Hermione – _'Let them be this stupid all the time,'_ she wished – as she told herself that their attackers had just restored their advantage in this fight. Hermione did not even bother to inform either Parvarti or Lavender, she suddenly took to her feet and began sending spells toward the direction of their attackers. She kept her spells to stunners as she has no wish of having to explain to the Headmaster why she blasted another student even if said student had tried to kill her and her dorm mates.

'_Speaking of dorm mates,_ Hermione thought and she turned her attention toward the direction of Parvarti and Lavender. She almost shrieked in delight as she realized that her two classmates had also rose from where they were hiding and had joined in the shower of spells.

In short order, the three girls had either stunned or incapacitated their attackers, a number that was easily five times their number.

As soon as the last girl was down, Hermione turned her wand toward the direction of the entrance, only to blush as she realized that she was now pointing her wand toward her Head of House.

Minerva McGonagall looked as if she had just witnessed a murder, and her face reflected the shock. Her lips had practically disappeared and her eyes wide as she surveyed the scene in front of her. Fifteen girls – all fourth year and below – lay incapacitated inside the dorm of her fifth-year girls, and as if that were not enough, it was clear that there was some sort of general exchange of spells in the area.

The head of Gryffindor house had rushed to the tower where her students were being housed after the charms alerted her to the unusual spell activity inside the dorms. She would have expected high spell activity in the common room as friends try to show off to each other and practice, but not in the sleeping area. She realized almost immediately that something was wrong, but she did not expect it to be this wrong.

"Miss Granger," the head of Gryffindor said, having already recovered from her mute state, "You will explain what is going on."

Hermione nodded, "Yes, Professor," the fifth-year prefect replied, but her explanation was short and to the point, "they attacked us first."

Minerva McGonagall would not find any falsity in that statement, as it was obvious even from where she stood. That the unconscious girls were inside the fifth year dorms was the first indicator of that truth, quickly followed by the fact that it is the dorm of the fifth year girls that was damaged – '_though thankfully not beyond repair_,' the Deputy Headmistress thought to herself – but most importantly, there were three fifth year girls, and there were fifteen other girls unconscious. If it were the other way around – if Hermione and her classmates were the attackers – they would not attack with just three of them, they would attack with more, and besides, Hermione was not the type to settle things with a magical duel.

The Deputy Headmistress allowed her eyes to wander over the unconscious students, and sure enough, she saw Ginny Weasley among their ranks. '_If Mr. Potter were to find out about this...,'_ she let the thought go unfinished because she realized – as she turned her attention toward Hermione – that Harry would find out about this one way or the other.

"Obviously," Minerva said a few moments later, she thought about asking the three girls about their choice of spells, but did not bother to do so because she realized she knew what they were going to say – '_We were defending ourselves,'_ the voice of Hermione rang around her mind without the fifth year prefect actually saying it.

The Deputy Headmistress supposed that she could take comfort with the fact that no one was dead, but that was scant comfort when she realized that this incident would probably add another straw – '_As if he needed more,_' Minerva thought to herself – on the back of the Headmaster.

"Oh, Dear," Minerva said, and in her state of shock, she did not even realize that she had spoken that out loud.

**Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Near Inverness**

**Scotland, British Isles, Holy Empire of Britannia**

**October 23, 1995**

The students gathered inside the Great Hall could hardly hold their breath as they entered the massive chamber. Very few students had not witnessed the challenge when it was made, but those few students had been informed by their classmates who had witnessed the challenge, and even if there are those who had not been informed, the fact that there was a dueling platform located in the middle of the Great Hall would have made the fact that there was a challenge issued obvious.

For many of the students inside Hogwarts, this was not their first time seeing this particular dueling platform. The long, narrow, and elevated platform had made its debut during the tenure of Professor Gilderoy Lockhart as the professor for defense against the dark arts and when the honorary member of the Dark Arts League had opened a dueling class – a class that lasted for only one meeting, since no one returned after the disaster that was the first.

For the rest of the students who had not seen the platform before, either they already knew what the platform was for, or they had been informed by those who are in the know who were seated beside them at their house tables, for despite the fact that there was a platform in the center of the hall, the four house tables are still inside, indeed, it would appear as if the Great Hall of Hogwarts had expanded in order to fit the platform.

Seated at her usual position at the Gryffindor table, Hermione stared at the platform with a natural expression on her face. On either side of her sat Parvarti and Lavender, obviously ready to protect Hermione should another attempt be made against her. On either side of the two Gryffindor fifth year girls, however, sat two of their male classmates, Dean Thomas and Seamus Finnegan. A third Gryffindor fifth year male – Neville Longbottom – was seated on the right hand side of Hermione, closer to where the faction of Ginny Weasley had taken their position.

After news of the skirmish had reached the fifth year Gryffindors, the boys had taken it upon themselves to protect their girls. The sermon that everyone in the tower had undergone after their Head of House had finished her inspection still rang around the ears of most of the lions, but it never hurts to be prepared.

The last member of the Gryffindor fifth years was seated alone, but that was just the way that Ron liked it. He already had his wand on the surface in front of him, and for the first time since anyone could remember it, Ronald Weasley was not attacking the food in front of him. in fact, the red haired, lanky Gryffindor had his eyes focused in front of him, and while those who had held no fondness for Ron would argue that the Gryffindor was staring at the food in front of him, the truth of the matter was, the youngest Weasley male was deep in thought.

The thoughts that are running through his mind, however, were that of an arrogant man, but that was hardly surprising. Ron was of the opinion that he could defeat Harry because he believed the rumors that had sprang overnight.

The rumors claimed that even could defeat the Potter heir because Harry had not gone through magical schooling. Harry would, obviously, have to depend on the things that he had learned in his muggle schooling, and Ron was sure that whatever it was that Harry had learned with them would not even be worth comparing with Hogwarts and the things that he, Ron, had learned in his five years of formal magical schooling – _'I'm going to take my OWL's at the end of this year, for crying out loud,_' the lanky red-head thought to himself.

Ron was so busy imagining how he would celebrate his victory later that his mind had forgotten the fact that the Headmaster had summoned him for a meeting last night, though that was hardly surprising. Albus Dumbledore was not happy with the actions of the youngest Weasley male, but family honor had been invoked – and it was the Weasleys who had invoked it – which precluded the Headmaster from interfering.

Instead, the man who was acknowledged as one of the most powerful warlocks still alive could do nothing but rant and rave in front of a scared looking Ronald Weasley and complain about how stupid the boy was. At the end of his rant, the Headmaster realized that he had allowed the boy to hear some information that he should not have heard, so the Headmaster whipped out his wand and cast the memory modification spell on the youngest son of his most faithful follower.

That does not mean that the Headmaster was not staring at Ron with looks on his eyes that had sent many people cowering away from him before, because that was exactly how the Headmaster was looking at Ron Weasley right now. Of course, since Ron was oblivious of the world, he could not see the look on the face of the Headmaster, though many of the other students – indeed, even some of the faculty – could see the look on the face of Albus, and not a few of them wondered what is wrong with him, though they concluded that it had something to do with the fact that there was going to be a duel in the first place.

The only time that Ron was torn from his reverie was when Harry walked into the Great Hall. As usual, the young naval cadet was with his own classmates, but unlike before, Harry and his friends are all wearing their dress uniforms, minus their berets. Also, unlike before, when Harry walked into the Great Hall, he held on his left hand – by the chafe of its scabbard – a sheathed sword.

The weapon was, obviously, not there for decoration, just as it was obvious that the weapon is just that, a weapon, but many of the students wondered if Harry truly intended to use the hand-to-hand implement in a duel that could be won at a distance. Not that many expected Ron to lose, but even those who held the lanky red-haired food-disposal machine in contempt was aware that Ron could cast spells, spells that could hit Harry even before Harry could reach the Gryffindor fifth year.

Harry and his cadets made their way to the Gryffindor table, but not beside Ron. Rather, they made their way where Hermione was surrounded by her friends, friends who quickly made space for Harry to sit beside the bushy-haired brunette.

The look on the face of Harry was marked with a jovial tone, so not that few remarked that the naval cadet must not be aware of what happened the night before, yet. That ignorance was quickly rectified by Hermione, and the jovial look on the face of Harry was instantly replaced by a venomous look that was equal – if not greater – to the venom that the Headmaster had on his eyes when he was staring at Ron.

In fact, Harry was about to take his feet at that moment, and he would have taken to his feet – no doubt he would have issued a challenge against the Headmaster had he managed to get to his feet – had Hermione not reacted in time and placed her hand on his shoulder and gently forced him to resume his seat.

Although Harry resumed his seat, for a few moments, there was a hostile look on his face and many of those who knew him were prepared to bet that the cadet leader was still going to issue the challenge, but Hermione stared Harry down – probably the only person in the world who could do that, but Hermione was not aware of that – and after a few moments, the cadet leader conceded the point to her.

Still, Hermione kept staring at Harry as if she had not seen the concession that the cadet leader had made. She stared at him for a good fifteen seconds, and she would have continued to stare at him had he not turned his gaze away from her and focused it on the dueling platform.

"The Headmaster seems to believe that we are going to have this duel using the international standard rules," Harry commented a few moments later, daring to turn his attention back toward Hermione. Fortunately for him, by the time that he returned his attention to her, she had already stopped staring at him.

The words that came out of the mouth of Harry alarmed Hermione, and she asked, "You're not going to play by the rules?"

The smile that came across the face of Harry was almost feral in its intensity. If nothing else, the tone that colored the words that came out of his mouth answered the question of Hermione even before his words did, "No," he said simply.

The beautiful chocolate brown eyes of Hermione widened when she heard his declaration, she would have grabbed him with both of her arms and shook him had Ron not chosen that moment to stand from where he was seated and walk toward where Harry and Hermione were having their conversation. The way that Ron walked conveyed a sense of arrogance and there was a smirk on his face, a smirk that advertised the fact that the red-head knew that he was going to win this duel.

Harry would love to wipe from his face, and with a smile, the black-haired naval cadet told himself that he would have that chance.

"First to stun?" Harry asked as soon as Ron was within earshot. By being the first to speak, Harry had robbed Ron of the chance to either boast or insult his opponent. Neither would have affected Harry, but the naval cadet still thought that they best get straight to business rather than play word games.

If the duel had began and if it were really first to stun, Harry would have already won. The next five seconds that followed after Harry had spoken was met only with silence from a stunned Ron. Indeed, even after the five seconds, the lanky red-head could only nod his acceptance of the condition.

The feral smile returned to the face of Harry as he commented before Ron could turn his back to him, "Pity, I was hoping for a duel to the death," he said.

The face of Ron reddened, nearly matching the color of his hair, but before Ron could say anything, Harry added, "Any weapons allowed."

"I suppose you'll be using your sword," Ron said, and this time, it was Harry who was prevented from speaking, as Ron quickly added, "That's fine, I suppose you could stun me with how useless that sword is."

A more prudent man would have been worried with the reply of Harry, for it was merely a smile, but Ron was anything but a prudent man, prudish, perhaps, but not prudent. In fact, it was debatable if the fifth year student had even seen the smile on the face of Harry.

In any case, Harry was certain that even if Ron had seen the smile, the red-haired Gryffindor would still have the same reaction as if he had not seen it. So convinced was Ron of his own superiority that the boy actually scoffed at Harry before he turned his back toward him. Had his opponent been someone who has no concern about appearances, Ron would have been stunned from behind.

Harry and Hermione watched in silent as Ron walked away from them. The lanky red-haired Gryffindor made his way not back to where he was seated before he made the short journey to where Harry and Hermione were seated. Instead, Ron headed to the head table, no doubt to inform the referee for the duel – who exactly, Harry was not sure, but he did not put too much worry in it because he was sure that the duel would be a fair one – of the terms of the match.

Hermione returned her attention to her breakfast a few seconds later, but Harry kept his gaze at his opponent for the evening, and a smile came across his face as he watched the professors of the school argue among themselves regarding the official for the match.

A few moments later, the diminutive Professor Flitwick stood from his seat, evidently having been chosen to be the umpire for this match. Privately, Harry was of two opinions on the matter.

The naval cadet knew that the half-goblin is going to be a fair umpire, and because of his experience in the dueling circuit, he was probably the most qualified of the Hogwarts professors.

Professor Flitwick, however, is half-goblin, and in the Holy Empire, anyone _tainted _with Goblin blood was to be seen as one not worthy of trust and – if one has to deal with them at all – one that should be viewed as about to take advantage of you. That attitude was a direct result of the French invasion of the British Isles nearly two hundred years ago. The goblins were the first to collaborate with the French Emperor after Napoleon had promised them equality.

"Students and honored guests," the voice of the resident charms master of Hogwarts tore Harry out of his reverie. He turned his attention toward where the professor had made his way in the short interval that Harry had used to formulate his opinion on the umpire. In the short amount of time that Harry required, the Charms Master had already made his way to the top of the platform, and from his vantage position, he was now addressing the student body.

"We have an honor challenge today," the professor said in a neutral voice that still somehow managed to convey to everyone in the hall that the professor would rather be anywhere than here. Clearly that he found the entire episode that he is now forced to take part in distasteful, "Mister Ronald Weasley had challenged Cadet Leader Fourth Class Harry Potter in a duel."

Harry mentally noted the rank that the charms master had used as a prefix to his name. In hindsight, Harry realized, he should have expected it. Professor Flitwick is half-goblin, and the goblins are big on martial tradition.

The student body reacted passively, but that was to be expected. This was not a surprise duel there is a dueling platform in the middle of the Great Hall after all. When the applause that he expected never came, a disappointed look came across the face of Ron Weasley, but the red-haired fifth year was quick to dispel the disappointment that was so obvious on his face.

Instead of saying anything, Ron took to his feet and made his way to one end of the platform. He chose the end that would allow him the shortest travel time so that Harry would be more inconvenienced, but the first year naval cadet merely took it in stride, his face neutral as he made his way to the end of the platform.

Harry did glance toward the direction of Hermione, and his heart – for some reason or another – did threaten to leap from his ribcage when he espied the worried look on her face. Unfortunately, before he could mentally comment on the look on the face of the woman whose honor he had defended, Harry was torn out of his reverie by the voice of Professor Flitwick once more.

"Gentlemen," the professor said at the same time that he turned his head toward Ron, then he quickly turned his head toward Harry before he asked, "Is there no way that this duel could be avoided?"

Harry knew that the professor was merely following protocol. The umpire in a non-sporting duel has the duty to ensure that the duel would be fair, but more than that, he has the duty to prevent the duel from happening in the first place if he could. Toward that end, he is supposed to seek for a peaceful solution between the two combatants until the last minute, and unless the combatants agree that the time for a peaceful compromise is over, he could not begin the duel.

Ron looked contemptuously at his charms professor, wordlessly passing the message that he does not think there was a way out of this fight to the diminutive half-goblin, but Harry bowed his head respectfully toward the professor.

The prejudice against goblins aside, Harry knew that the professor was merely acting within the scope of an authority that he was forced to shoulder. Harry did not show the professor contempt because he felt no contempt for the half-goblin, "With respect, duel-master Flitwick," Harry replied, referring to the professor using his title at the dueling circuit, "I am prepared to declare Potter honor satisfied if Mister Weasley _and_ Miss Weasley were to apologize to Miss Granger, for the slight against her yesterday afternoon _and_ the attempt by Miss Weasley against Miss Granger," a thin smile cut through the face of Harry before he added, "Of course, I would still demand punishment commensurate with their acts."

Ron scoffed, and was about to say something, though before he could do so, the Headmaster cut off Harry, "Cadet Potter," Headmaster Dumbledore said, "Regarding that issue, I have investigated and…,"

Professor Flitwick cut off his superior, "Headmaster, this does not concern you," he sharply rebuked his superior, no doubt the fact that he was being forced to referee a duel affecting the tone that he had used, "This is between Mister Weasley and Cadet Leader Potter," and without even waiting for his superior to respond, the resident charms master of Hogwarts turned his attention toward Ron and asked, "What say you to the proposal of Cadet Leader Potter?"

Ron scoffed once more, "I refuse to accept the proposal," he replied, "I say we begin this duel, I have other things to do today."

Harry smiled, "You could do them as soon as you are out of the Hospital Wing, I guarantee you, that is where you would be heading right after this duel," Harry said, he politely inclined his head toward the professor, indicating that he acknowledged that his offer had been rebuked.

"Very well," Professor Flitwick said, a distressed look on his face. Once more, he studied the faces of the two combatants, before he nodded – more to himself than to anyone else – and motioned for the two parties to approach, saying as they did so, "This would end when one of the parties is no longer able to continue fighting, no lethal spells are allowed," he turned toward Ron and asked, "Do you agree with these terms?" and when Ron nodded, the professor turned toward Harry, "Do you agree with these terms?" and unlike Ron, Harry bowed his acknowledgement.

"Very well, bring no dishonor upon yourselves," the professor said before he motioned for the two men to return to their starting positions at the opposite end of the platform.

Ron drew his wand as he walked toward his end of the platform, mentally rehearsing the spells that he knew would bring him victory today, and because he had his back turned toward Harry, he failed to watch as the cadet leader unsheathed his weapon.

Hermione had first thought that the sword was decorative, now she knew that while the weapon may have a decorative function when paired with the uniform that Harry wore, the main function of the sword is just that, as a sword. The blade of the weapon was straight, but it was not a rapier, the weapon that Hermione had thought it would be.

Rather, the weapon appeared to be a short sword, with a polished blade that seem to reflect light as Harry hefted it to check it for blemishes on the blade. A device was on the pommel of the weapon, but because of the distance, Hermione could not make out the design. It seemed odd to her that she and Harry had been close – and she had seen him carry that same weapon before – but she had not had the time to study the device on the pommel of his sword.

She turned her attention to her side and saw Edward and the other cadets seated beside her. She wanted to tear the second-in-command a new one for appearing calm despite the fact that their leader was about to figure in a duel, but then she realized that Edward and the other cadets are probably as calm as they are right now because they saw no point in being worried. They knew Harry was going to win.

Further musings on the part of Hermione was interrupted, however, when her charms professor called for the duel to begin. She returned her attention on the top of the platform just in time to see Ron send a volley of stunners against Harry. Most of the jets of red light missed Harry by a mile, hitting a barrier that was cast around the platform the moment that the duel began, but one of the spells nearly got Harry.

Instead of evading – which Hermione knew Harry could do and which would she knew would have been the logical reaction – Harry brought his weapon up, using the blade of the weapon to catch the incoming spell fire. Mostly everyone inside the Great Hall thought that the weapon would shatter upon impact, so their shocked surprise was understandable when instead of shattering into a thousand different pieces, the sword deflected the spell, sending the jet of red light back toward Ron.

The lanky red-haired Gryffindor watched in disbelief as Harry caught his spell, then his eyes widened as he watched the jet of red light that _he_ had cast against Harry now heading toward him. Unlike Harry, he did not have a sword that could deflect spell fire, he did not even have a sword, so, unlike Harry, Ron had to duck in order to avoid his own spell.

He expected Harry to return fire, and Ron was prepared to lose some advantage as Harry counter-attacked. Every Hogwarts student inside the Hall – Hermione included – expected Harry to launch spells against Ron, so once more, the shocked surprise that everyone felt when Harry just stood there – weapon at his side even if he was in the middle of a duel.

Ron quickly got up to his feet, but for a few moments, he and Harry just stood there, the red-haired Gryffindor pointing his wand toward the direction of Harry, but unwilling to fire a spell just in case this was some sort of a trick. For his part, Harry merely looked bored, as if he were observing an animal behind a cage, which – if someone were to ask him – was exactly what Harry thinks he is doing right now.

A snarl came across the face of Ron after he somehow convinced himself that while the weapon that Harry had in his hands is able to return his spell fire, it was incapable of actually casting a spell. He told himself that so long as he can evade the incoming spells – '_and that should be easy, given who I am,'_ Ron thought to himself – he would be fine.

Another volley of spells was launched from the wand of Ron, and once more, most of them went wild – '_the result of firing fast but neglecting to aim,_' Harry thought to himself – that Harry did not even bother to use his sword to reflect the incoming spell fire.

At the same time, however, Harry was thinking about something else. Normally, thinking about something not related to the duel while in the circuit would be a mortal sin. A duelist could not afford the time since he must garner all of his attention to the fight, but Harry held Ron is so much contempt – '_and that appears to be justified, given how bad is aiming skills are,'_ Harry thought to himself – that he could afford to think about something else.

A mental smile came across the face of Harry as he thought about the shocked looks that would be written on the faces of the professors. The naval cadet was sure that should he turn around and look at the faces of the professors, that shocked look would be there, but even as he thought about it, Harry told himself that he should not be that surprised.

These people were reliably informed that nothing muggle could withstand spell fire, and as such, Harry knew that they were expecting his weapon to shatter the moment that it was hit by the stunning spells of Ron, but these same professors are the very people that this very institution is supposed to be proud of, the best of the best. It seemed ironic that even _they_ should be aware of the properties of some metals when it comes to magic.

Gold is generally considered to be the best conductor of magic, and in a sense, that was right, but unlike the magical world, the non-magical world had long gone a technological revolution that had allowed them to discover something called 'synthetic materials'. The sword that Harry was using was coated with a special formula that not even Harry was aware of – aside from the fact that it was a combination of both worlds – that allow it to not only absorb spells and store them for future use, but also to deflect the excess of the fraction required.

Simply out, while Harry used his sword to swat away the stunner spells that Ron was firing at him; he was also concentrating the magic of _Ron_ on the blade of his weapon.

At the appropriate time, Harry planned to fire the spell back, but he also knew that the power that he had stored in his weapon was not yet enough, so when Ron fired another volley toward him, instead of evading the spells as was logical – and it was within his capabilities – Harry, instead, went out of his way to swat the spells back at Ron.

Ron had to jump in order to avoid getting hit, but the snarl on his face had not yet disappeared, silently telling Harry that the lanky red-haired Gryffindor still believed that he is going to win this match. The sheer arrogance of Ronald Weasley had caught Harry off guard for a few moments, but he quickly recovered at the same time that he promised himself that he would make the defeat of this bastard as humiliating as possible.

Harry deflected five more spells, sending them barreling toward Ron who had to jump once more in order to evade the incoming spell fire. Before Ron could recover, Harry suddenly switched from defensive to offensive.

Harry suddenly charged Ron, his sword held at his side, but ready to slash upwards in an opening upward diagonal strike. Ron might not know much about non-magical weapons, but he could still sense danger, and he knew that he was in danger as soon as he saw Harry running toward him like a deranged mental patient. Ron also knew that there was no way that he could depend on spells this time, he instinctively knew that Harry could easily bring his sword up and deflect any incoming spell fire, and given the distances involved – and rapidly shrinking – Ron knew that he could not evade the spell this time.

Ron decided to jump to the side in order to avoid the incoming attack of Harry, but that was exactly what Harry wanted him to do. Just as Ron was about to throw himself to his left-hand side, Harry stepped to the same side, his sword already moving. Once more, Ron was reminded the weapon that Harry had in his hands was not just for decorative purposes, as the blade swung from beneath Harry, gleaming as it neatly cut the robe of Ron. Another few millimeters and the blade would have cut not only cloth but also flesh, and a totally dumbstruck Ron was quick enough to realize this.

Unfortunately for Ron, Harry was not yet done with him. The fifteen year old naval cadet used the momentum that was released by his attack in order to fuel an outlandish maneuver that would never be seen in the dueling circuit as it technically exposed the back of the duelist. Harry spun n his left heel in a full circle, but at the right moment, his right leg extended horizontally toward the face of Ron. The sole of the boots of Harry hit the red-haired Gryffindor straight at the face with a resounding crack that everyone in the hall could hear.

By the time that Harry had finished his turn, everyone could see that Ron was bleeding hard from both nostrils and the red-haired lad was too busy trying to stem the bleeding in order to pay attention to the still continuing duel.

Harry approached Ron quickly, closing the distance that had developed after Harry had kicked him. Ron was still too busy paying attention to his bleeding nose in order to see the approach of Harry, but that was not for long as Harry was quick to remind Ron of his presence in the field, though Harry did so with his fist.

With an economy of movement, Harry used his left fist to punch Ron straight in the face, causing the lanky lad to fall – back first – into the surface of the platform. Before Ron could even recover, he found himself staring at the tip of Harry's sword as the naval cadet stood above him, his sword held straight against the face of Ron.

"Apologize and admit defeat," Harry demanded.

The sudden reversal had stunned Ron far more effectively than any stunner, and technically that would have ended the duel, but Professor Flitwick – most likely just as stunned as Ron with the use of muggle techniques – was not saying anything.

"Apologize and admit defeat," Harry repeated, edging the point of his sword closer to the right eye of Ron.

That seemed to wake him up, "I apologize, and I admit defeat," the red-haired Gryffindor said as hastily as he could, not wishing to give Harry the satisfaction of having his admission. Unfortunately for him, Harry was not yet done with him.

"Apologize to Hermione as well," Harry demanded, inclining his head slightly toward the direction of Hermione, though his eyes never left Ron's.

This time, it took Ron a few more moments of hesitation, though that moment of hesitation was quickly ended by the movement of the sword of Harry, "I apologize," Ron practically shouted, "Hermione, I'm sorry,"

For a few moments, Harry looked unsatisfied with the apology, but after a few moments, he nodded, and was about to turn around and walk away from his downed opponent when he stopped as if he remembered something. Once more, he turned his eyes toward Ron and said in a harsh voice that no one among the crowd doubted was a threat, "If you threaten Hermione again, there will be consequences far graver than lost honor and a wounded pride," he said, and before anyone could do anything, Harry lightly slashed a mark on the chest of Ron.

Among the shocked gasps that emanated from the crowd of onlookers, Harry said, "To remind you of your betters, Ronald Weasley," and so saying, he walked away from his downed and thoroughly defeated opponent just in time to hear the umpire for the match declare the duel ended in the favor of Harry.

Harry, however, did not step off the platform. He turned his attention toward the direction of the combined staff of Hogwarts. He mentally noted the look on the faces of the Headmaster and his teachers and a smile – a subtle one – came across the face of Harry as he regarded the professors. He was sure that most of the shocked looks on their faces had something to do with the way that he had won, but Harry was prepared to bet that the Headmaster was also worried about the reasons that Harry had not jumped down from the platform.

'_Well,'_ Harry thought to himself, '_He is right to worry,'_ before he turned his attention toward Hermione. A confused expression was on her beautiful face as her chocolate brown eyes met his emerald green eyes. Suddenly, her eyes widened as she realized that what he is about to do had something to do with the attack this evening. Harry watched as Hermione opened her mouth to warn him, but before she could push even a single word out of her mouth, Harry said, "I have an announcement to make,"

Every pair of eyes – at least those who are not focused on Ron – turned toward Harry. Once he was sure that every pair was on him, Harry continued, "An attack occurred inside this castle last night," he began, as he turned his attention toward the Headmaster in order to see the worried look on his ancient face. Harry was not disappointed.

"What is galling about this attack was that it occurred inside a House, and it was conducted by and between members of this one House," Harry continued, "I thought that a student House is supposed to be his family inside this school," he glared at Ginny and her friends, most of whom cringed in response to the sheer contempt that Harry gave them, "Apparently, that is not the case anymore, we do not choose who belongs to our family, we learn to live with them, but fortunately, we can chose who can come under our protection."

The worried look on the face of Albus Dumbledore quickly turned into one of alarm and he actually stood up and was about to draw his wand to stop Harry when he realized that that would be out of bounds. The Headmaster of Hogwarts – one of the most powerful warlocks in the world – could do nothing as Harry declared, "As of this moment, Miss Hermione Jane Granger of Gryffindor House, and all those who had fought at her side last night are under the protection of the Potter Family."

Headmaster Dumbledore pointedly cleared his throat – '_no doubt to warn me that I could not pronounce Family protection,'_ Harry thought – but before the Headmaster could say anything, Harry quickly said, "Under my authority as my father's representative," and with a wide smile, Harry added, "And as the personal emissary of Lord Alexander York, Prince of Scotland."

Whatever it was that the Headmaster was going to say quickly died in his throat at the mention of the name of the Prince.

**Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Near Inverness**

**Scotland, British Isles, Holy Empire of Britannia**

**October 23, 1995**

Severus Snape could hardly remember a time in the past when the Headmaster was this angry. Power was leaking off every inch of the man, making the potions master somewhat uncomfortable as his own magical strength was forced to submit to the sheer raw magical potential that it was being forced to confront.

The Potions Master of Hogwarts supposed that he could take comfort in the fact that the magical potential of his superior was at least not being directed against him, he knew that if that were the case, he would not even be able to sit at this chair in front of the desk of the Headmaster.

The occupants of the portraits that surround the desk of the Headmaster – the former Headmasters and Headmistresses of the school – had all fled the moment that Albus Dumbledore had allowed his control over his powers to collapse and have yet to return. Severus doubted that most of them would return anytime soon.

"The sheer arrogance of the boy!" Dumbledore shouted, forcing Snape off his reverie and back into the present. He never thought that the time would come when the Headmaster would be at his side in his dislike of the Potter family – aside from Lily, of course.

"Headmaster…," Snape tried to calm the Headmaster – something that he had been doing for the last few minutes, to no avail – but he knew that he may as well be shouting at a cliff face.

"Have you found a way to break the Oath?" the Headmaster suddenly asked, his power still coming off him in waves that was making the potions master nervous. A slight taste of a compulsion charm marinated his voice, but Severus sensed it right away. Fortunately, thanks to his Occulumencary training, he was able to ignore it, not that the potions master would have wanted to lie to his superior anyway.

"I have discovered a way," the potions master replied a few moments later, "but the consequences of such a move, and of breaking the Oath," he paused as he looked at his superior. Mustering all of his strength, Severus Snape implored the man who had saved him from the Death Eater trials after the end of the war, "I urge you to study them carefully first, Headmaster, we might not be doing ourselves a favor."

For a few moments, Severus thought that the Headmaster would charge head on regardless of the consequences, but a few moments later, the power that was rolling off him in waves subsided as the Headmaster of Hogwarts finally brought himself under control, "Very well," the Headmaster said, "We shall study it first, but make no mistake, Severus, I am ready to sever the Oath."

Snape nodded. He had no doubt that the Headmaster was serious when he said that, the man _will_ sever the Oath if he thinks that the consequences would be worth it. For the first time in so many years, Severus wondered if it would be wise to prove a false report for the time being.


	11. Chapter XI

**A/N: **I do not own Harry Potter or anything associated with it.

* * *

**ELEVEN**

**Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Near Inverness**

**Scotland, British Isles, Holy Empire of Britannia**

**October 23, 1995**

Hermione could not remember a time since she had arrived at Hogwarts that the surface of the waters of the Black Lake was as calm as it is right now. No ripples disturbed the tranquil surface as the creatures that lived within the lake seem to avoid coming to the surface, just as no wind howled from any direction, gently stirring waves as it travelled through the air above the calm surface.

Hermione sat at her favorite spot near the shores of the lake, a spot opposite the Forbidden Forest – the lake was between where she was seated right now and the entrance to the forest where entry was not allowed – and just a stone's throw away from where the Imperial Military had set up their outermost sentries – a foxhole with the business edge of a heavy machinegun pointed outward of the castle.

Hermione had found this spot early in her career at the magical school. She had run out here during her first Halloween after Ronald Weasley had insulted her and found a felled log that quickly doubled as a seat for her as she watched the many miniscule disturbances on the surface of the lake, and it reminded her of the life that teemed within that ecosystem hidden from her eyes. The sudden drop in the temperature as afternoon turned to dusk and dusk turned to evening had quickly forced her back into the castle, missing the announcement that a troll had somehow managed to enter the school.

Since that time, Hermione had regularly returned to this place. It was as much as the place where she could be found as much as the library. Despite that, very few people within the halls of the castle that stood but a short distance away from where she was now seated was aware that this is her favorite spot.

Hermione was not alone as she stared at the calm waters of the lake, however. Beside Hermione, a man that wore the utility uniform of the Imperial military was also seated, but unlike Hermione, the attention of Harry was not directed toward the uncommonly still surface of the Black Lake, rather, both of his emerald green eyes were turned toward Hermione as he presented an outward calm despite the fact the deep within him, the cadet was wondering why Hermione had asked for him.

Harry was forced to examine how deeply this beautiful and wonderful girl beside him had ingrained herself in him. He was forced to remember the time when they first met, and as he did so, a wistful smile came across his face – unnoticed even by Harry – as he silently remarked with wonder at how fast and how deep Hermione had became important to him.

What was supposed to be a mission to infiltrate the castle and steal an item of importance to the security of the Holy Empire right from under the nose of the Headmaster turned into something else for Harry, and as he sat beside Hermione, Harry was forced to concede that it turned into something else because of the young woman that now sat beside him.

His further musings, however, was interrupted when Hermione abruptly turned her attention away from the calm lakes of the waters and toward Harry – and he silently remarked to himself, '_she's beautiful'_.

Hermione placed her index finger over his lips before he could say anything, silently telling him to let her speak. It was the first time that she had done that since he had known her, and Harry was forced to concede that electricity ran up and down his spine.

When Hermione opened her mouth, he fully expected her to admonish him for the way that he fought the duel, and now that he had some time to think about it, Harry realized that he should not have played with Ron. Already, he had been admonished by Edward for allowing the majority – if not all – of the students and faculty of Hogwarts to watch him bat away the incoming spells using his sword, and Harry fully expected his liege lord to tear him a new one the moment that Lord Alexander heard about it – '_and he has a good reason to,'_ Harry remarked, '_that sword was supposed to be a secret'_.

In his defense, Harry thought that it was a good way to humiliate Ron, but once again, now that he had time to think, he realized that humiliating Ron was not why he was at the dueling platform in the first place.

"What does it mean, Harry?" Hermione asked. Her voice made Harry returned to the present, and for a few moments, he could only stare at her as he tried to make sense of her question. Fortunately, there was no need for Harry to directly ask her, because Hermione – not sensing the confusion that Harry felt – continued, "The protection that you said?"

Harry blinked before he realized what Hermione was talking about. That was one more thing that Harry had to admit – at least to himself – that he made a mistake about. Although granted a wide range of powers by virtue of being the personal representative of Lord Alexander to Hogwarts – not that any member of the Hogwarts student body or faculty and staff was aware of it – and as the first – and only – son of the Viscount of Lisbourne, Harry does not possess the power to place a person – least of all a member of another family – under the umbrella of family protection.

For the announcement that Harry had made just a few moments ago in front of the school to be effective, he had to speak and somehow convince his father. Should Lord James of Lisbourne refuse to ratify the announcement of Harry, then Harry would be the one who would provide protection to Hermione _without_ the support of the Potter family, and this would be true even when Harry becomes Head of the Family.

Harry had no qualms about protecting Hermione, but he realized that he should have waited for an official instruction from his father, an instruction that was not likely to have arrived before his duel, given that Harry had not asked permission from his father in the first place.

"Harry?" Hermione asked, and once more, she forced him back to the present. The questioning look on her face convinced Harry that it would be in his best interest to answer her question.

"It means that the Potter Family would consider you as a protectorate," Harry said, and before Hermione can ask the obvious next question – '_What does that mean?'_ – Harry continued, "It means that an attack on you would be considered as an attack against the Potter Family, necessitating a response from the family and all allies of the family."

Harry watched as the eyes of Hermione widened as the implications of what Harry had just said sunk in with her. By declaring her a protectorate, Hermione had essentially become untouchable. The Potter Family might not have that many resources, but Hermione was aware that the family was one of the closest allies of the York Family. Fundamentally, an attack on Hermione could be considered as an attack against the Royal Family.

"Does that mean…?" Hermione began.

Harry cut her off by repeating what Hermione had done earlier; he placed his index finger on top of her lips, though he was unsure if Hermione felt the same thing that he had felt when she had done it to him, namely, that lightning ran up his spine. Harry was not aware of it – and Hermione had no intention of telling Harry – but when he placed his index over her lips, lightning also run up the spine of Hermione.

"I have to confirm it first with my father," Harry said, having made the decision to come clean so as not to give Hermione any false hope. Still, he fully expected at least one slap from Hermione, possible even more.

When she did not reply to his words, Harry thought that it was because she was shocked by the duplicity, and Harry quickly moved to reassure her, "I would make the case to my father, Hermione," he tried to assure her

Hermione, however, shook her head, and Harry suddenly became afraid as he realized that she was about to say something that he really does not want to hear. Harry quickly tried to come up with the words that he could use to stall Hermione, but before he could do so, Hermione was already speaking, though the words that came out of the mouth of Hermione were not the words that Harry had thought – and feared – would come out.

"Thank you, Harry," she said, much to the confusion of Harry. The moment that she saw the tell-tale confused look on his face, she burst out laughing, "That you would step out in the limelight and declare that you would protect me, no one had ever done that for me before."

"Just as well, it means that I am the one who is supposed to protect you," Harry replied. Realizing what he had just said, he swallowed audibly before he continued, "In any case, they are all idiots."

"I never told you who 'they' are, Harry," Hermione teased him, the smile on her lips broadening.

"Whoever they are, they are idiots," Harry insisted, unaware that Hermione was teasing him, and the fact that there are no 'they' in the life of Hermione.

Still, like every girl when she was young, Hermione had dreamed of a prince in shining white armor and a majestic white horse – sometimes with a single horn on the forehead, but that would be a unicorn – to gallop into her life, pull her into his arms, and carry her off to his magic castle.

Hermione returned her attention toward Harry just as a small giggle pass through her lips – causing confusion in the face of Harry – as she thought, '_Harry might not be wearing a shining white armor or riding a majestic white horse, but the reality is sometimes far better than the imagination.'_.

'_Although,'_ Hermione thought, '_that uniform could certainly be considered as armor.'_

Harry fidgeted uncomfortably and Hermione turned toward him with a questioning look, but Harry merely shrugged, "It's nothing," he assured her, but Hermione would not let it go, and she continued to stare at him, until after a few moments later when Harry sighed and said, "I keep on thinking about how I defeated Ronald Weasley," he admitted.

Harry would admit that he would have wanted for Hermione to say something after he had said that, but she merely continued to stare at him. The young cadet also had to admit that the way that Hermione was staring at him at that moment was making her uncomfortable, so after a few moments, he let out a sigh and continued, "I keep thinking that I should not have played with him," he admitted, "That I should have ended the duel even before it began."

For a few moments, Hermione stared at Harry, digesting the words that he had just uttered. That Harry could end the duel even before it began, Hermione had no doubt. The skill that Harry had showcased during the duel was not one that she would have expected from a fifteen year old, she had no doubt that Harry knew far more spells than her, and that Harry could cast them far more effectively than she – or anyone else inside the school with the possible exemption of the staff – could.

Hermione shook her head a few moments later and returned her attention toward both the present and Harry, "I enjoyed the duel," Hermione admitted a few moments later, and at the questioning look that she saw on the face of the young man who had risked a lot to protect her, Hermione continued, "It was amusing to watch Ronald get humiliated, I must admit."

Harry stared at her, then a few moments later a smile came across his face as he nodded, but the words that came out of his mouth was, "I thought he was going to ask you out for the Hogsmeade visit as soon as it is scheduled?" he asked, although there was a light teasing tone in the way that he asked that question.

Her lips thinned to show the fact that she was not amused by his question, but after a few moments, she replied, "He probably would not want to go near me again," she smirked toward Harry and the young cadet could barely make sense of the words of Hermione before she continued, "You humiliated him in front of the school, and now the whole school knows that you have me under your protection, Ron would not dare approach me."

Harry paused for a few moments as he tried to make sense of the words that Hermione had just uttered, but after a few moments – and finding no fault in the logic of Hermione given the few things that Harry had learned about Ron since his arrival at Hogwarts – the young cadet finally nodded his agreement with the assessment of Hermione.

Harry, however, had a few more things to say, and toward Hermione, he said in a serious voice that brokered no argument as to the seriousness of his words, "Just as well, if he tried to lay his hands on you this time, I will cut off his head," he said.

**Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Near Inverness**

**Scotland, British Isles, Holy Empire of Britannia**

**October 23, 1995**

Professor Severus Snape presented an outward calmness as he watched his fellow professors enter the staff room. On the surface in front of the youngest potions master in the whole world – and no one would doubt his ability, they just doubt his ability to pass on his knowledge to his students – a cup of hot tea rested, smoke billowing from the surface of the nearly crystal clear liquid hinting only at its high temperature.

The resident potions master of Hogwarts was aware that his colleagues are surprised by the meeting that the Headmaster had called, just as he knew that they are surprised by the fact that he had beaten them all to the punch and was already inside the staff room by the time that they arrived. Severus knew very well his reputation of arriving at the last moment – '_at least I do not arrive five minutes after the meeting was supposed to start,'_ Severus quipped, '_damn Lockhart.'_

The potions master of Hogwarts forced himself back to the present by gently taking his cup of tea and sipping on it. As he did so, Severus wondered why the Headmaster had called for this meeting, but even as he silently remarked to himself, there was already a part of him who already knew the reason that Albus Dumbledore had called for an unscheduled faculty meeting.

'_And he tells me that I am too petty,'_ Severus remarked as he replaced his cup of tea on top of the saucer that rested on the surface in front of him. At the same time, he politely inclined his head toward Professor McGonagall as she entered the staff room, a clearly irritated expression written on her face.

Severus knew the reason for that irritated look, but unlike the reason that the Headmaster had called for this unscheduled staff meeting, this time, the potions master was sure what the reason is behind the annoyed look on the face of the transfiguration mistress of the school.

If forced to make an admission, Severus would have no choice but to admit that at that moment, he too was irritated at the meeting, for this meeting was being held at the same time that he and his fellow professors are supposed to be in their classrooms doing what the administrator of the school was paying them to do, teach the students, but no, the Headmaster would not be swayed, he wanted a meeting, and a meeting he got, at the expense of the students that are supposed to be the priority of this school.

Severus watched in silence – he seriously considered taking his tea again – as the Deputy Headmistress took her designated seat at the table. Minerva looked at Severus for a few moments, but then she returned her attention toward the direction of the seat of the Headmaster – who had not yet appeared from wherever it was that he was supposed to come from.

Severus knew that the Deputy Headmistress was surprised that he was here early, and he knew that she clearly wanted to ask him if he knew anything about what was going on, but Minerva was nothing if not disciplined, and the formidable Scot – possibly the second most magically powerful human in the whole of the castle, possible stronger than the number three and the number four in the castle combined – clamped down on her desire to know exactly what was going on with an iron clamp as she focused her attention toward the direction of the seat of the Headmaster.

The resident potions master of Hogwarts knew that the transfiguration mistress of the school took her job seriously and would suffer no interruption from her work. At that moment, Severus silently told himself that he would not want to be the Headmaster right now, given the sure fact that the Headmaster was sure to be a the short end of the legendary temper of the Deputy Headmistress of Hogwarts.

Seven minutes before the meeting was supposed to start, the Headmaster made his appearance, but unlike his faculty staff that walked into the meeting room, the Headmaster had to keep up appearances and flooed in using the fireplace located just behind where he was supposed to be seated. That was expected, though, given that his office was at the seventh floor of the school while this room was at the second floor.

The Headmaster looked surprise at the fact that his potions master was already inside the room, but unlike the rest of his staff, Albus Dumbledore merely shrugged before he turned his attention toward his assembled staff.

The Headmaster turned his attention toward his Deputy, and there was no need for him to resort to using his powerful Legilimancy ability in order to know what she was thinking. The frown on her face was enough advertisement for the Headmaster to know that Minerva was not amused by this meeting.

Still, Albus knew that he could afford to ignore the look on the face of the resident transfiguration mistress. The Headmaster knew that while Minerva may vocally disagree – sometimes loudly – with some of his decisions, she would follow instructions. For all her personal power, Minerva was not one to resort to action first, and, in any case, even if the Deputy were to act out of her character, Albus was sure that he could take on Minerva – even if she were to include Filius Flitwick and Pomona Sprout with her.

"Thank you for coming here," Albus said at the same time that he took his seat. He conveniently ignored the fact that his staff could not beg off from attending a meeting with him, especially when one considers the fact that the Headmaster had made attendance mandatory.

"Albus, what has happened this time?" Minerva asked, though her tone suggested that whatever it was that had happened, the Scottish witch was of the opinion that it was not that important enough for her classes to be disturbed. Unfortunately, Albus knew his Deputy Headmistress far better than anyone inside the school, and he knew without a doubt that Minerva would consider the topic of this meeting to be irrelevant – at the least.

The Headmaster sighed theatrically, but unfortunately for him, every single person inside the staff room knew that his sigh was just that, theatrical. None of them were convinced by the show, but at the same time, no one said anything, for at that same moment, the Headmaster said, "I had hoped to discuss the behavior of our guests toward our students," he paused for a few moments – and ignored the looks on the faces of his senior staff – before he added, "Specifically, one guest."

Minerva let out a loud sigh, one meant to be noticed by the Headmaster, and that was exactly what the Headmaster did, he noted the actions of his deputy, and he turned his attention toward her, a questioning look on his face, "Albus," the Deputy Headmistress began, "We all know that the guest that you are about to mention is one Harry James Potter."

Albus Dumbeldore nodded and was about to confirm the words that his deputy had uttered, but before he could do so, the diminutive charms master of Hogwarts and the man who had been the referee of the duel that occurred just a few hours ago, said, "I find the actions of Cadet Potter to be proper," and before anyone could say anything, the half-goblin quickly added to the defense of Harry Potter, "If it had been my friend who had been insulted, I would not have held back like he did, and his announcement of pronouncing family protection over Miss Granger is within his rights."

"You do not think that this reeks of favoritism?" Albus asked, and at the look of surprise on the faces of his staff, the Headmaster explained, "Miss Granger is muggle-born, does this not show favoritism in their favor?"

"If it does," Professor Sprout said, entering the conversation with a counter-argument to the admittedly flawed – even the Headmaster would admit that – argument that the Headmaster had used, "Then I for one would say that it's about time."

"Purebloods walk amongst the population of Hogwarts as if they own this place," Pomona added, responding to the unasked query of the Headmaster, "They must be made to understand that Hogwarts is a school, not a breeding ground for the next generation of blood purist," she shook her head and added in a tone that suggested a barely controlled fury, "And the rampant discrimination against our muggle-born students, time and time again, I had protested this underground practice, but nothing had been done," a satisfied smirk crossed the face of the head of Hufflepuff House as she added, "Perhaps this would teach those who would persist in their ways that discrimination would not be tolerated within the walls of this institution."

This was not how the Headmaster had envisioned this meeting happening, but his staff had effectively hijacked the meeting, with three of his four Heads of Houses speaking out against him. The only other Head of House who had not spoken was Severus – and here, the Headmaster turned his attention toward the potions master of Hogwarts – but that was merely because Severus felt that the Headmaster need not know his opinion, having imitated the same to the Headmaster numerous times during their private meetings.

"Are you advertising for another duel, Pomona?" Dumbledore asked.

Professor Sprout shook her head, "Not at all, Headmaster," she replied, "If I may remind you, sir, that it was Ronald Weasley who challenged Harry Potter to a duel, not the other way around," he politely inclined his head toward Minerva before he added, "If it was up to me, the humiliation that he had suffered in the hands of the Potter _scion_ is not enough, I would have suspended him, and if I had the power, I would have expelled him."

The emphasis on the word scion was not lost upon the Headmaster who belatedly realized that Harry Potter is the son of Lord James, Viscount of Lisbourne. It was bad enough that the Potters are considered amongst the elite of the British Magical Society – despite the fact that they had disappeared, that having been offset by the fact that they disappeared after it was widely believed that they had defeated the Dark Lord Voldemort – now, it would appear that they also hold peerage position – and are direct vassals to one of the most powerful Dukes in the Holy Empire – within the muggle aristocracy. The political power of Lord James Potter is considerable, and it would appear that his son was not shy about using it.

**Wentworth Woodhouse, Yorkshire, England**

**British Isles, Holy Empire of Britannia**

**October 23, 1995**

Lily Potter stood at the second floor of the massive house, her arms crossed over her chest as she calmly observed the coming and going of people below her. The Lady Countess of Lisbourne had stood at the exact same spot for twenty minutes now, calmly waiting just a few steps away from the closed doors of a non-descript room – '_and there are so many of them in this house_', Lily thought to herself.

She had to admit that she was waiting for that door to open and for the people who are already inside the room – and she knew that there are many of them inside that room, engaged in a discussion that she had decided not to take part in because of the headache that she was feeling at the moment – to leave, pronouncing an end to their meeting.

She fought the urge to raise her left arm so that she may check the time with her timepiece once more. Lily was assured by James – who had attended the meeting because Lord Lisbourne is the official representative of the Prince of Wales and the Prince of Scotland while Lord Alexander is out of the British Isles – that the meeting would end by twelve – '_military officers, especially these high ranking ones, tend to stick with the schedules that they had made for themselves,'_ James had told her – noon, but the last time that Lily had checked her watch, it was already twelve in the afternoon, and that was more than twenty minutes ago.

The former assistant prosecutor for the City of New York in the Lady Countess of Lisbourne wanted to break open the door and charge into the room, a demand to know why they are taking too long in finishing their meeting already ready to be fired from her lips, but that part of Lily was effectively held in check by the noble lady part of her.

Lily had once accompanied Lady Emma while the latter waited outside a close door for her fiancée. The Countess of Lisbourne could tell that Lady Emma was about to lose her temper because it was taking the military men too long to come up with a decision already so that Lord Alexander could leave the meeting, but the Marchioness kept her cool throughout the long thirty minute overtime. When that meeting finally ended, Lady Emma only had a smile on her face, though Lily was not sure what was discussed between the Marchioness and the then Duke of New York while they laid on the surface of their bed that evening.

Without warning, the door opened, and Lily almost instantly had her attention turned from the direction that she faced a few moments ago and to the direction of the door. She was surprised at the worried and anxious – '_an intriguing combination,'_ Lily thought – on the faces of the military men as they walked out of the room. Quite a few of them politely bowed in front of her, but Lily was not about to exchange pleasantries with the men, even if most of them had triangles or even diamonds on their shoulders.

The number of officers involved in this meeting meant that Lily had to wait for only a few moments before the room was cleared of everyone who – while members of the Grand Fleet –are not in the Inner Circle of Lord Alexander. Once she was sure that only members of the Inner Circle are inside, Lily stepped into the room.

It was a non-descript room, Lily noted. It was a virtual twin of virtually every room in the second floor of the house, a room with a view on one side, high ceilings, and a smattering of cushioned chairs and sofas plus a few end tables to function as surfaces. Ever since Lord Alexander had taken over the largest privately owned home in the whole of Europe, his staff of caretakers and helpers had been busy turning it into a relatively comfortable house/headquarters for the Prince.

They had mostly succeeded, despite the protests of the original caretakers who had argued that even though the house is technically the headquarters of the Grand Fleet, it is still a private house, never mind the fact that the Golden Throne owns the house.

"Lils," the voice of her husband calling her using his personal nickname for her brought Lily out of her reverie. She turned her attention toward the direction where the sound came from, and she raised one of her eyebrows toward the direction of James when she saw him seated at one of the sofas with his legs propped up against one of the end tables. It was a lousy position, and it was the only thing that Lily needed to see in order to know that her husband had not had a productive day.

Aside from Lily and James, there was only one other person in the room. The sudden summons that Lord Alexander had received from his grandmother had forced the Prince to quit the British Isles for the time being and cross the Atlantic back to the mainland. The Prince brought almost his entire staff and Inner Circle aside from James, Lily, and the other man in the room with them, Rear Admiral Daniel William 'Ash' Ashford, the chief military advisor of Lord Alexander.

"Unproductive I take it?" Lily asked as she took a seat beside her husband. James – who was wearing a three-buttoned suit – the only civilian in a room full of military people during the meeting – straightened up as his wife sat beside him.

"Probably less than that," James was forced to admit, he inclined his head toward the direction of Rear Admiral Ashford. Lily turned her attention toward the man just in time to watch him as he poured himself a shot glass full of Scotch.

Once the Rear Admiral was finished, he offered an empty shot glass to James, but the Viscount of Lisbourne begged off by shaking his head. At that moment, James truly wanted to join Rear Admiral Ashford in getting drunk, but because his wife was in the room, he had to restrain himself.

"I am not my liege lord," Rear Admiral Ashford said after he drowned the contents of his glass. He quickly poured himself another shot but this time, the young Rear Admiral did not drain the contents right away, he turned his attention toward the couple first and admitted, "The officer corps of the Grand Fleet would be with His Grace to the man, but I could not say the same for the officer corps of Fourteen Army," he shook his head before he quickly added, "Without them, we might not be able to hold Scotland."

"With all fairness to the Fourteen Army, Ash," James said a few moments later, "They are not aware of the situation."

Rear Admiral Ashford nodded, "And the situation is not helped by the fact that we could not tell them what the situation is," he acknowledged. He seem to debate whether or not he should say something first before he drained his glass again, but evidently, the latter won as the young Rear Admiral – youngest in the staff of Lord Alexander – quickly drained the shot glass before he said, "We need to begin to plan contingencies just in case something untoward happen while His Grace is out of the British Isles, but to do that, we must have the assistance of Fourteen Army since they are the ones who may have to bear the brunt of any fighting."

"How likely would the separatist threaten us while His Grace is out?" Lily suddenly asked. Both her husband and the Rear Admiral turned their attention toward Lily with a questioning look pasted on their faces, and she took that to mean that both men were requesting for more information from her, so that was what she did, "I mean, the threat of the separatist are there, that is the reason that we have started to reinforce our standing in the area, but what are the chances that the separatist would launch any untoward incident during the time that our liege is not in the islands, surely, they are aware that while the Duke is seeing to personal business back at the mainland, the easily more than ninety percent of the Grand Fleet are still in station, not to mention the ground forces."

"They must know that there would be no hesitation on our part that we are going to make it rain fire on them should that happen," James added, his eyes brightening as he realized what his wife was saying.

Rear Admiral Ashford shook his head, however, and replied, "There is, of course, only a small chance of that happening," he admitted, but before anyone could comment, he quickly added, "But the greatest unknown that has to be taken into consideration, the greatest threat as it were, is Hogwarts."

"Which is why we had an entire brigade there," James pointed out, he leaned back on the chair that he was seated on and commented, almost off-handedly, "In any case, the power of the Oath was already demonstrated to them, they would not think to challenge it again, at least not without a smarter plan."

Rear Admiral Ashford shook his head, "Powerful as the Oath may be, Lord James, it is not foolproof," he reminded the Count of Lisbourne, "And already, I have enough scenarios in my head on how to break the Oath to give me nightmares," he actually fidgeted before he added, "The power that nature had granted to your kind, My Lord, is not to be underestimated and brought only under control of the Golden Throne by exploiting the prejudices of the magical people."

James and Lily nodded at that, aware of the story behind how the Golden Throne was able to make the magicals swear the Oath in the first place. It was not a pretty story.

"In any case," Rear Admiral Ashford continued, "His Grace has tasked us with coming up with a solution to a problem that has not emerged as of yet, but that it would emerge is inevitable."

Lily sparked at that, "Inevitable, Admiral?" she asked, and from her tone, there was an element of hostility in her question. It was obvious that she had taken offense at the statement of the Chief Military Advisor of the General-Admiral of the Grand Fleet.

"My apologies, My Lady," Rear Admiral Ashford replied, and for a few moments, the younger man did truly looked apologetic, but then he said, "The conflict between the magical world and the non-magical world is inevitable, because sooner or later, the Statute of Secrecy would fail," he shrugged but added before anyone could say anything, he continued, "We fear that which we do not understand, and fear breeds conflict, His Grace wanted to avoid that conflict, as does Her Grace, the Marchioness, but both of them acknowledged that they could not stave off that conflict forever."

"And does His Grace see that conflict happening anytime soon?" Lily asked.

Rear Admiral Ashford shook his head, "No, my Lady," he replied, "We could not be certain when this conflict would happen, only that it would happen," he smiled before he added, "It may even happen after His Grace had taken the Golden Throne, or even after His Grace has left it."

James and Lily stared at the chief military advisor for a few moments. Although they both knew that the man could not make an oath – basically because he was not magical, an oath that he would make would not be enforceable by magic – his words were structured much like one. After a while, James and Lily realized that the admiral must have made the oath having taken that into consideration, but before they could say anything, the Rear Admiral continued, "And that His Grace would take the Golden Throne, my Lord, my Lady, is a foregone conclusion as inevitable as the coming conflict."

**Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Near Inverness**

**Scotland, British Isles, Holy Empire of Britannia**

**October 23, 1995**

For Harry, the so-called Room of Requirement was a huge garbage pile, and he did not mean that in the figurative sense.

When he and Edward first entered the room after searching for it with their wands out for more than a week, it had been a cozy chamber that both cadets would have mistaken for the office of the cadet corps commander back in Annapolis or the meeting room of the Prime Minister of Britannia, and of course, that meant that they could not conduct their search, so the two cadets just marked the location of the room.

They wasted the next five hours the next day looking for the room and that was when they discovered that the room was magical and would only appear if it was needed and only if the searcher was desperate enough.

'_Well,'_ Harry thought as he pushed deeper into the room, taking care not to even nudge one of the dozens of unstable-looking stockpiles inside the room, '_we are about to get more desperate.'_

Intelligence had sent a report from their headquarters that there was some sort of disturbance being generated near – _or _in – the castle. The report went on to state that it is possible that there is an effort being mounted to sever the Oath. Harry, the naval cadets, and the top brass of 'C' Brigade, 22nd Infantry Division, are all aware that the moment that the Oath was severed, something might happen – even if they do not yet know what that _something_ is – that would require their intervention.

Harry knew that by intervention, that meant using the firepower of the entire brigade against the threat, even if at that moment, no one knew who – or what, for that matter – the threat was.

A sound coming from behind him tore Harry out of his reverie, and the cadet was quickly crouching on his left knee. He had pivoted on his heel in order to turn his attention toward the direction where he came from, and at the same time that he did so, he drew his wand. Harry had to admit that he would have preferred to draw his pistol, but because of the instructions that he had received prior to the deployment, Harry and his cadets had to leave their sidearm behind.

There already was a curse at the tip of his tongue, and Harry was ready to fire when the sound echoed around the room again. This time, because Harry was looking toward the direction of the sound, he saw the noisemaker and he lowered his wand after that.

The sound came from what appears to be a clock, though it was obviously enchanted. What appeared to be miniature fireworks were erupting from behind the no less than a dozen hands of the clock, and for the life of him, Harry could not figure out the reason behind having so many hands.

"You alright, Harry?" a voice came from the direction that Harry had came to regard as the other side of the room.

"Yeah," Harry replied, answering the question of his partner, Cadet Edward Brooke who was doing his own searching at the other side of the room.

Harry grimaced at that. The truth of the matter was, neither he nor his partner – or anyone else from the brigade for that matter – was aware of exactly how big this room was. Harry and Edward had both tried to measure the room but because of the junk in between, they could not do it by sight, necessitating using sound.

The problem with that was no matter how far the two of them were from each other, they could still hear each other as if they were just standing beside each other. Harry and Edward had once walked five minutes around the room in order to locate the other despite the fact that they could still hear each other using their normal volume.

The two young cadets could only surmise that whatever magic was affecting the room was also affecting their hearing, something that actually caused Harry some trepidation given that he could not feel the magic around him, or rather, he could not feel that specific magic around him.

"Have you found anything?" Edward asked.

"None that would register anything with the devices," Harry said, and to make sure of that, he turned his gaze toward a Geiger-counter like device that hang from his breast pocket. The gauge was indicating zero, which meant that there was no source of dark magic anywhere near Harry, "How about you?"

"I have some indications, but none of them are registering off the scale," Edward replied, "I'm guessing the one that we are searching for would be over the scale."

Harry nodded despite the fact that he knew that his partner could not see him. It made sense that the objective that they were sent after would be a dark object of the highest caliber. The devices are not showing anything of that mark, despite the fact that the devices are indicating that there are dark devices inside the room.

That, in itself, is not surprising. After all, Harry and his cadets had concluded that this particular room had been the favorite hiding spot of students since the beginning of the school. It would not be improbable to conclude that some students who had no desire to be caught with a dark object in their possession would throw said dark objects into this room.

Judging from the stockpile, no one had ever found the room twice, or even if there was some who had, there were not that many of them.

"Continue searching till we are relieved," Harry commanded at the same time that he pocketed his wand. At the same time, he thought to use his magical sight, but he had barely turned it on for two seconds before a blinding headache forced him to close it, at the same time that he was once more forced to his knees.

Fortunately, the headache passed on relatively quickly. The speed that it had came and disappeared convinced Harry that it was some sort of magical defense that had caught him by surprised but before he could think about it – and more importantly, before he could think of a way to indentify it – the voice of his partner echoed around the room once more.

"Harry," Edward screamed at the top of his voice, and that caused Harry to panic though before the higher ranking cadet could say anything, Edward continued, "I found something."

"Don't touch it, Edward," Harry commanded at the same time that he started running toward the direction of his friend. Unfortunately, Harry was not sure where his friend was, and could only depend on the sound that was echoing around the room to locate him. That could take anywhere between ten seconds to an hour.

"Talk to me, Edward," Harry commanded.

"It just started to glow, Harry," Edward suddenly said, and Harry had no trouble imagining that despite the panic that was now obvious in the voice of his friend, Edward already had his wand drawn and was ready to do what needs to be done – even if Harry was also sure that his partner had no idea just what that is.

"What is it?" Harry asked as he dodged a pile of garbage that suddenly appeared in front of him the moment that he made a sharp turn. He grazed one of the items as he continued running, not even bothering to slow down to check on the damage to the room as the pile collapsed, shattering some expensive looking decanters and blocking the path where Harry came from.

"It's some kind of a crown," Edward said, "It's still glowing and appears to be levitating as well," there was a pregnant pause before he continued to report, "It does not appear to be levitating, Harry, it is levitating."

"Don't approach it," Harry commanded as he turned once more. He thought that that was the right path to take but a few moments later, he cursed and was forced to turn around as he confronted a seemingly insurmountable wall of garbage.

"Too late," Edward replied dryly, "I'm not approaching it, its approaching me."

'_Damn it,'_ Harry cursed as he turned another direction. This time, the path was clear and he continued to run toward his friend, "Back up, Ed," he commanded.

To Harry's horror and surprise, his partner did not reply. Fortunately, at that moment, Harry burst into the scene. His friend was openly staring at a crown of some sort, and Edward was right, not only was the crown glowing, it was also floating in mid-air, and worst, it was obvious that the whatever it was that was controlling the crown wanted Edward to put the crown over his head, if the altitude of the crown were to be of any indication.

"Edward!" Harry shouted at the same time that he drew his wand. He actually had the business end of his focus aimed at his friend at that moment, but he hesitated, and he turned his attention toward the crown at the same time that Edward's hands reached out for it.

The glowing and floating crown was not something special. Harry had expected the circlet to be engraved with precious stones, but the crown was devoid of such. In fact, if not for the fact that his friend had called it a crown of some sort, Harry would be fine labeling it as a circle of no importance.

Edward had placed his hands on both sides of the trinket and that tore Harry out of his reverie. The cadet leader was, however, still unsure of what to do, until the moment that his friend had the trinket directly over his head. Harry was not sure what that trinket was capable of doing, but judging from the fact that it was glowing and hovering, Harry was sure that it had some hidden capabilities.

'_Damn it,'_ Harry thought. He knew that he could not stun the thing, because it does not have a consciousness, and judging from the way that his counter was squealing, this is the item that they had been sent after, '_it stands to reason that this dark object is capable of possessing anyone it comes across,'_ Harry thought.

"I have no choice, sorry, buddy," Harry said, and though it was directed toward Edward, the other cadet ignored Harry as he appeared to be so focused on getting that crown over his head.

"_Stupefy," _Harry screamed, the business end of his wand pointed toward Edward. The other cadet did not appear to notice the fact that a curse was flying toward him, until the last moment when he turned his attention toward Harry.

Harry watched as the eyes of his friend widened in realization of what was about to happen, but the curse was already so near that there was nothing that could be done about it on his part. He could not even jump out of the way, and within a few seconds after Harry fired, the beam of red light connected with the body of Edward,

The cadet slumped at the same time that his eyes rolled upward, and, having lost consciousness and balance, he fell faced first into the floor at the same time that the crown that he held with his hands rolled toward Harry.

Harry turned his attention toward the still glowing crown, and he could feel the power of the object seducing him with images that he knew could not be true but would like to come true. With a disgusted snarl, Harry raised his right foot over the object then slammed it down with all his might.

The object might not have bent in the face of the attack of Harry, but at least it shut up.


	12. Chapter XII

**A/N: **I do not own Harry Potter or anything associated with it.

* * *

**TWELVE**

**Camp Infirmary, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry**

**Near Inverness, Scotland, British Isles**

**October 23, 1995**

Hermione could hardly hide her trepidation as she watched with a carefully controlled – and she knew that her control was fast slipping – expression on her face. Just a few feet away from her, Harry stood at full attention as he listened to his immediate commanding officer. From the fact that no voices were being raised, Hermione knew that Harry was not in trouble, or at least, not as seriously, but the fact that Brigadier General Arnott had to personally summon Harry, and for the general to speak with Harry inside the infirmary in the first place, Hermione knew that there was something wrong.

Hermione shook her head at that. She forced herself to turn her attention away from Harry and toward the figure that was lying on the bed. If not for the steadily beeping monitors that were connected, Hermione would have claimed that Cadet Edward Brooke was already dead. For some reason, his breathing was shallow and there were fears that something had happened to the young man that Harry had not included in his report.

Unfortunately for Hermione, while she knew that there was an official report that Harry had already passed to his immediate superiors, she does not know the contents of the same. Aware that whatever was written on those white pages was to be considered classified information, Hermione had not even bothered to beg Harry to tell her right after she had joined him for what was supposed to be their routine afternoon talks. It was not later after Harry had given her the summary – minus the classified points, Hermione knew – that the commander of 'C' Brigade arrived in the tent.

That was nearly fifteen minutes ago, and though the fact that there were no raised voices was of comfort to Hermione, it was scant comfort. She longed to join Harry and hear what was going on, but Hermione also knew that that would not be allowed. Worst, she knew that that would be problematic not only for Harry but also for her uncle given that she was not even supposed to be here. The only reason that she was not being called for it was because everyone knew that she is the niece of Rear Admiral Granger.

Hermione closed her eyes at that, she dare not imagine what would happen to the young man in front of him, or how what would happen to Edward would affect Harry. She felt a sharp pain in her chest as she thought about how this would affect Harry, and at almost the same time, she felt bad because she was more worried about how this incident would affect Harry than she is about Edward who might actually die because of what Harry did.

It made sense though, to Hermione. After all, while Edward is Harry's best friend, it was not as if he had been close to Hermione. In fact – and here, her brows furrowed – Hermione could remember that the first time that she met Edward, the young cadet had pulled Harry away from her with a lame excuse that Harry had told her was not true. In fact, Edward himself had implied admitted that.

The sound of boots clicking tore Hermione out of her reverie. For a few moments, she thought about turning her attention toward the direction of Harry, just to check if it was Harry who did that, but at the same time, she realized that she is in the middle of a military camp. Boots clicking is nothing out of the ordinary at this place. Still, she did turn her attention toward the direction of Harry a few moments later, reasoning that she really does not need any excuse in order to turn her attention toward that direction.

She turned her attention toward the direction of Harry at the same time that Brigadier General Arnott returned the salute of Harry. The big general gave Harry a nod before he turned his back to Harry and started to walk away from the tent. Harry kept at attention for a good three seconds after the general had left the tent before he allowed himself to visibly relax, actually deflating with his shoulders sagging.

By the time that Harry had turned his attention toward Hermione, though, he had brought himself back to his full height. There was still a worried expression on the face of Harry, though, but that was something that he tried to hide – something that was not quite successful – as he turned to look at Hermione. In fact, he tried a tentative smile when he looked at her, but Hermione easily saw through the illusion.

It was probably the worried look on the face of Hermione that convinced Harry that he was not doing a thorough job of keeping the worry on his face and that he should not even bother.

No words were exchanged between the two of them as Harry closed the distance. No words were exchanged between them as they both took their seats near the bedside of the still unconscious Edward Brooke, and the fact that no words were exchanged between them for a good ten seconds after they were both seated rankled Hermione.

She placed her hand over his, and he turned his attention toward her with a questioning expression on his face. Hermione just shook her head, warning him against opening his mouth and saying something. He looked confused for a few moments, but then he nodded and acquiesced to her silent request.

For a few moments, the only sound inside the tent was the steady beeping sounds of the machines connected to Edward, but after a few moments, Hermione broke that monotone silence when she turned her attention toward Harry and asked, "That bad?"

Harry actually smiled – and this time, there was nothing forced in his smile – before he shook his head at the same time that he replied, "Not really, he understood why I did what I did."

Hermione knew what Harry had done. The fact that he stunned his partner was not classified, but the reason behind the action of Harry was. Not for the first time since she had arrived, she wished Harry would just tell her, but she reminded herself that he could not tell her, not without consequences.

"We've completed our mission," Harry suddenly said. This prompted Hermione to turn her attention toward him, and she did not even bother to look surprised, but before she could say anything, Harry continued, "I cannot tell you what the mission is, but I could tell you that we had completed it," he paused for a few moments, but again, he did not give Hermione a chance to say anything before he continued, "I expect orders as early as tonight."

"Orders to return home?" Hermione asked in a small voice. She hated to admit it – or at least, she knew that she should have hated to admit it, but this was Harry that she was talking with – but she was suddenly afraid. Afraid of what might happen now that Harry is leaving was a part of it, she knew, but the greatest fear that she had at that moment was the fear that she would not be able to see Harry again.

Hermione mentally shook her head. She knew that that was impossible. Aside from the fact that Harry had basically placed her under his family protection – and she had read up on that after the talk that she and Harry had so that she could fill the blanks – she had been offered a chance to go to the mainland and study there. It was an opportunity that she planned on taking, but now, doubly so because Harry might, by this time tomorrow, be on his way back to the mainland.

Still, even with all of these assurances under her, Hermione still could not help but be scared, and apparently, Harry realized that, because the next thing that the young cadet did – and without any outward prompting from Hermione – was to pull Hermione closer to him, engulfing her into a loose sideward hug that somehow seemed to lessen the fears that Hermione felt at that moment.

Of course, the fear was still there, but the actions of Harry did much to lessen them. The next words that came out of his mouth also helped, "Even if I am not here, I would still protect you," he promised her.

"Harry?" Hermione tentatively asked. She did not doubt that. He was not her first friend, but he was the first one to go out of his way – even against his way, she knew that he had gotten into trouble, with his friends at least, when he first met her – to be with her. Taking that into consideration, Hermione easily convinced herself that he would find a way to be with her.

"My family is not the most powerful family in the Empire, Hermione," Harry began, "but Lord Alexander and the York Family are our liege lords, they are the most powerful family in the Empire, the family that sits on the Golden Throne of the Holy Empire of Britannia."

"Lord Alexander cares about his vassals like no other lord that I have read or heard about," Harry continued, "No one would be stupid enough to risk angering the Duke by attacking the people that are under his protection."

"Is that the reason that you placed me under the protection of your family, Harry?" Hermione suddenly asked. It was a trick question, she knew, and the young student also knew that asking Harry that question at that point in time was unfair to the young naval cadet, but at that moment, Hermione could not stop herself from asking that.

She wanted to know what she meant to Harry. Was she someone that he could just leave behind despite the obvious affection that they have for each other? Or was it all a sham, an illusion that would soon be shattered when he finally leaves? She prayed desperately that it was the latter despite all the assurances that she had given herself expressly, and despite his implied assurance.

Harry shook his head, "No, that's not the reason," he replied, he gently pushed himself away from Hermione, taking care not to alarm her with the sudden lost of contact between the two of them.

Hermione turned her head toward the direction of Harry just as he pulled away from her, but at that last moment, Harry stopped and before Hermione could say anything, Harry quickly said, "I want to protect you, Hermione," he shook his head and continued with more fervor in his voice, "I need to protect you, Hermione, just because of that, because I need you," he shook his head and added with a rueful smile, "I was number one in my class when I finished my primary education, and I am number one in my year in the Academy, I have always been a good – probably the best – student that my instructors and teachers had ever seen, but for all that accomplishments and accolades, I could not find the words that would accurately describe what I am feeling right now."

Hermione thought that that was the right moment for her to interrupt him, but once more, before she could say anything, Harry stopped her, though this time, he did it not by once more saying something, he did it by gently placing his right index finger over her lips.

Hermione paused at that, and for a few moments, silence once more descended between the two young students within the medical tent, the only sound being the steady beeping rhythm of the machines that continue to monitor the heartbeat of the patient.

"I've never felt anything like this before," Harry admitted a few moments later as he gently removed his finger from over the lips of Hermione. It was novel for Harry, to admit his feelings. He has had girlfriends before, some of them even serious – or at least, as serious as a young man of his age could be when he thinks of those things – but he was not lying when he told Hermione that he had never felt anything like what he is feeling for her before.

Hermione reacted to his action by pushing his head forward, an attempt to keep his fingers on her lips, but she noticed this right away and stopped herself after she had moved only a miniscule distance.

Hermione decided not to say anything after that, she merely stared at Harry, dreading and hoping at the same time, what his next words would be. Unfortunately, Harry seemed to have clamped down after the last words that he had spoken, prompting Hermione to be the one to say something, "Neither do I," she admitted.

Like Harry, Hermione did not lie when she said that, but that was not surprising considering her history in the school. She had never had a single romantic relationship since the day that she was born aside from the typical schoolgirl crushes.

"Do you think…?" Harry began. He turned his attention toward her, and unconsciously, he moved his head forward so that the mutual distance between his lips and hers steadily declined.

"I would think so," Hermione replied, a slight giggle on her lips as she said that, and like Harry she also moved her head toward him, her miniscule movements adding to the closure rate of a collision course of their lips.

If the two students were honest, they would say that they both anticipated this even if they did not even think that this was going to happen today when they woke up this morning. Both of them, though, knew how to seize the moment, and at that moment, Harry and Hermione truly seized the moment.

There were no words that followed after that, but that was hardly surprising, because a fraction of a second later, their lips met in a soft collision, and the two young students, for the first time in their lives, shared a kiss.

**Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry**

**Near Inverness, Scotland, British Isles**

**October 23, 1995**

"You wanted to see me, Headmaster?" Severus Snape asked as he stepped through the door of the office of the Headmaster. The potions master of Hogwarts was not surprised to see that he was alone in the rather cavernous interior of the office of the Headmaster, he knew that since the day that he had switched sides and became a spy for the light side, there would be times that he and the Headmaster would have to meet away from the prying eyes and ears of even the most trusted members of the Order of the Phoenix – or the staff of Hogwarts for that matter.

Truthfully, it was not something that was overly burdensome for the surly potions master, he preferred to be alone most of the times anyway, but for a split second, he wondered how things would be different had he not defected during that critical time of the first war.

With a mental scowl, however, the potions master reminded himself that preventing that dark and bleak outlook was exactly the reason that he had defected in the first place. Severus knew that if he had not defected during that time, the Potter family would be dead and while the potions master of Hogwarts could care less about James and Harry Potter, he could not let Lily Potter die

Still, the potions master knew that if he had not defected, then the situation they are in right now – concerning the small army that was encamped just a stone's throw away from the school – would be drastically different. The Dark Lord would not have allowed muggles this close to the school, but it would not have mattered.

If the Dark Lord had won that first phase of the war, Severus understood that there would be no magical world to speak of today, at least, not in the British Isles. The potions master of Hogwarts knew that the muggles would not have second-guessed themselves, they would have attacked, and as powerful as the Dark Lord was and his Inner Circle – and even if the racist in him does not want to admit it – Severus knew that they could not stand against the full might of the Holy Empire.

The voice of the Headmaster calling for his attention tore the potions master out of his self-imposed reverie, "Yes, Severus, my boy, I had," the Headmaster said.

The potions master forced himself to return to the present, and he turned his full attention toward the man who had received his surrender and who had – in exchange for saving the life of his childhood friend and unrequited love – forced him to become a spy.

"I am here, Headmaster," Severus replied.

For a few moments, the Headmaster merely stared at him, as if he was trying to explain within his mind what the young man in front of him meant when he said that, but the Headmaster also knew that the mental shields of Severus Snape are as strong as his own, if not more so. It was required with his job as a spy for him to have powerful mental shields so that his loyalty could not be questioned by the other side.

Of course, that did not do anything to decrease the hostility that the members of the Order have for him, those same mental shields that protect him from being discovered by the dark side as a spy prevents the members of the Order from seeing his motivation or reading his mind. It was truly an isolated position that the potions master of Hogwarts had taken.

Albus knew that it was not helped by the fact that the potions master went out of his way to antagonize everyone that he had ever met in his life. The Headmaster was sure that the potions master actually antagonized the Dark Lord as well, and only his genius in potions making – unsurpassed by anyone that Albus had ever met despite the fact that Severus seems incapable of teaching his craft to anyone below seventh year – had saved him from getting gutted in front of Lord Voldemort.

The Headmaster of Hogwarts shook his head mentally and forced himself to return to the present. There would be a time for him to muse about the motivations of his potions master, "It seems to me that our guests had an emergency this morning," the Headmaster said, and to reply to the questioning look on the face of his potions master, he continued, "one of their cadets was supposed to have been carried out of the school in a stretcher by four of his colleagues."

"Good riddance, then," the potions master replied.

Albus fought the urge to sigh at the same time that he fought the urge to launch into a tirade against the racism that his potions master was showing. He did supposed that he should have expected it, after all, the man did join the racist group led by Lord Voldemort, but the Headmaster had truly hoped that Severus had grown up to at least control his mouth, even if it was just him inside the room. Sadly, that does not appear to be the case.

"It could prove to be a problem," the Headmaster continued, "After all, one of their cadets was apparently overcome while he was inside the school."

Severus quickly saw what the Headmaster was saying. He may be a racist fool, but he is still a genius and his logic is unsurpassed, at least, it is whenever he bothers to use it, which, sad to say, was not most of the time when he is dealing with students.

"They would claim that it is an attack," the potions master said, his voice so low, the Headmaster was, in addition to not being sure if it was meant for him, forced to lean in closer toward his potions master in order to hear what he was saying.

"Precisely," the Headmaster said, nodding his head in agreement with the words of his potions master, "We best be prepared should that happen, tell me, would we disappear from their faces should I invoke the severance?"

The pensive look on the face of Severus was quickly replaced by a look of horror, but he knew that he should answer the question, "Truthfully, I do not know," he replied, but before the Headmaster could say anything else, Severus quickly interjected, "Where did you get this information anyway, Headmaster, about the cadet? For all we know, it may be rumor, we may be preparing for something that would never happen."

The Headmaster actually managed to look regretful as he shook his head, "I am afraid that that is not the case, my boy," he said, he had a condescending look on his face as he added, "The information came from one of the ghosts who had the opportunity to watch as the young men carried their unconscious colleague out of the castle," he paused before he added, "They did take great pains to ensure that no one see them conduct their operation, and the ghost who made this report reported that it is likely that no other student had seen the operation being carried out."

Severus fought the urge to snarl at that. He knew that the ghost who had witnessed the incident was most likely not there by accident. More likely than not, the Headmaster sent the ghost to spy on the cadets, but that would beg the question of why the Headmaster would send ghosts in the first place, unless…

The potions master turned toward the Headmaster, "Potter?" he asked.

The Headmaster shook his head, "Fortunately not," he replied, and though he tried to hide the sigh of relief, Severus knew that it was coming so he was able to spot it. it was not that difficult to conclude that the Headmaster would be relieved that it was not the son of Lord James Potter. The man had incredible political power concentrated in his hands, and while Severus thinks little of the muggles, he knew that James could use the power in his hands to utterly crush Hogwarts, if not the entire British magical world.

"It was his partner, however," the Headmaster noted, "and it was young Mr. Potter – Cadet Potter – who led the operation," he shook his head and added, "Whatever it was that had overcome the other cadet, Cadet Potter was most likely in on it."

"Typical Potter," Severus snarled, his logic having already fled him at the mere mention of the name of the son of his childhood rival, "They make mistakes that have ramifications for all of us."

Albus fought the urge to ask Severus if the potions master believed that the fact that James chose to pay court to Lily was one of those mistakes that have ramifications for all of us that he was referring to, but decided not to. Not because it was inappropriate, but because the Headmaster already knew what the potions master would say. There was truly no need to ask for it.

"Nevertheless," the Headmaster said, forcing the conversation back to what they were supposed to be talking about, "We must prepare."

For a few moments, the potions master did not say anything, and while the Headmaster was sure that that was because the man was trying to look for a way that he could commit without really saying anything, the truth was, the potions master was, at that time, weighing his options. He truly wanted to humiliate James, even if it was only through his son, but in the end, his calm and precise logic returned with a force that made it difficult for the potions master to ignore it.

The consequences of the Headmaster breaking the Oath would not be worth the humiliation that he could pile on the lap of James Potter, not when it would appear that their whole world would suffer those consequences.

"Headmaster," Severus finally said a few moments later, he made sure to wait until the full attention of his superior was focused on him before Severus continued, "Once more, I will caution you against invoking the Oath at this juncture," and before the Headmaster could say anything else, he continued, "We do not have the manpower or the resources to fight against the Empire," he shook his head for emphasis and added, "While it is possible that we would disappear on their faces once that Oath is severed, you must remember that the muggles know where we are, if only because of the fact that they have magicals in their service."

"That is rather unfortunate," the Headmaster admitted, "but we do not need to challenge them in a conventional war," he shook his head in a grandfatherly fashion, attempting to show as much regret as he could, "much as it pains me, we would have to fight the type of war that Tom and the other dark lords of the past are known to favor."

"Even that would not work, Headmaster," the potions master replied, he was emphatic when he added, "We might not even survive the first night that we break that Oath,"

"You assured me that we could break the Oath," the Headmaster replied, fixing his potions master with a stare that would have melted stone.

Severus stood his ground firm, "I'm not talking about our magic killing us," he clarified, "I meant that when we break the Oath, those soldiers outside would not take things lying down."

A smile formed on the face of the Headmaster at that, and it was a smile that chilled the potions master of Hogwarts when he realized that it reminded him so much of the smiles of the dark lord, "We already have a plan in place to take care of the soldiers outside," he assured his potions master.

For some reason, that hurt the pride of the potions master. It confused the man for a few moments until he realized that the reason that his pride was hurt was because the Headmaster had chosen someone else to plan for that contingency, but after a few moments, he shook his head and told himself that it really does not matter.

Neither the fact that it was not him who planned the contingency nor the fact that he could not prevent the Headmaster from severing the Oath matter, because Severus knew that by this time tomorrow, the very tower that he now stood on could very well be gone, shot to pieces by those massive guns of the battleships that visited just a few weeks ago.

**Fulton House**

**Rochester, New York, Holy Empire of Britannia Mainland**

**October 23, 1995**

The incessant ringing of the phone was what woke the young man who, a few moments ago, was in a dream world of his own creation. It was unfortunate because he was in the middle of a dream that he would consider a good dream, but he also knew that no matter how hard he tried, he would not return to the exact same scenario that he had just left.

That does not say anything for the still incessant ringing of the phone that was on the surface of an end table at his side of the bed. Not for the time since he had placed that phone there – and since he was woken by it in the middle of the night – he wished that he had placed the telephone somewhere else, but he also knew that he placed that telephone there for a reason, and that reason was so that he could reach the phone easily.

With a sigh, Lord Alexander unconsciously rubbed his eyes in an effort to wake himself up. He also fought the urge to curse as he did so, the unusually loud rings of his bedside phone somehow shortening his temper as it continued to yell for his attention.

"Alright, already," the young Prince muttered under his breath. He had to stop himself from cursing out loud because he knew that the person who was lying down beside him on the surface of the bed was already asleep, and not for the first time, he wondered how in hell she could sleep through the racket that the phone was making.

Instead of turning his full attention toward the ringing phone, however, Lord Alexander turned his attention _away_ from the phone. A small smile graced the facial features of the Duke even as the phone continued to scream for his attention. As he had expected, the young woman who was in the bed with him was still asleep.

Normally, that would mean that he would have free reign drawing stick figures on her back with his index finger, but just as the duke was about to do that, the phone yelled once more. This time, the Duke barely stopped himself from cursing before he turned his attention away from the sleeping figure of the woman who would someday become his wife.

He fixed the telephone a glare, but he also knew that the inanimate object would not even notice his glare, so at the next ring, he abruptly picked up the receiver of the phone and asked in an abrupt manner, "What?"

"My apologies, Your Grace," the voice on the other end of the line was unfamiliar to the Prince of Scotland, but he knew that whoever it was on the other side, he was sure that he was in the middle of wishing that the duty of calling him in the middle of the night had fallen to someone else. The man on the other end, however, was a professional, "I have a," – there was a brief pause as the operator checked his papers – "Horace Baffin from the Ministry of the Interior for you sir."

Lord Alexander blinked at that. He has a lot of people who work for him so it was not expected for him to remember all of their names, but as far as he was concerned, he knew every person that he has working in that ministry, mostly because he had very few people in that ministry who answer to him.

This Horace Baffin was most certainly not one of them, but for the man to call him in the middle of the night – and for his on-duty supervisor to allow the call to proceed despite the lateness of the evening – certainly speaks of the urgency of the matter. The man could have waited for the morning, but he instead chose to interrupt him while he was sleeping.

Lord Alexander shook his head once then twice, before he focused his attention on the situation in front of him, "Let me speak with him," the Duke demanded in a gruff voice that nevertheless managed to sound neutral.

There was another brief pause as the operator connected the internal lines of the house with the external lines, and the Duke used that moment to sigh and to take stock of the place where he is in.

Fulton House was not the place where he had grown up, even if it was his official residence. The place that he had grown up was actually Olympia Academy, but that was on the west coast of the mainland, a good three day journey from where he is in right now. Still, Fulton House is his official residence because his father had designated the same as his official residence. Archduke Stephen had taken the necessary steps to ensure that the formalities are met, and though Lord Alexander is going to be Archduke after his father, Archduke Stephen would not jeopardize the succession by showing too much favor to his son.

"My Lord?" the voice on the other end of the line tore Lord Alexander out of his reverie. He forced himself to return to the present.

"Yes, I am here," he replied, he turned his attention toward the direction of Lady Emma and watched as she stirred slightly, but did not wake up.

"My Lord, I am sorry to bother you at this late hour, but we have a situation," the man at the other end replied, "Ministry of Interior sensors from within the British Isles have pinged a few hours ago, and we had confirmed that it was not a glitch."

'_That explains why he is calling me,'_ Lord Alexander thought. The British Isles was his responsibility. Sure, he was Prince of just Scotland and Prince of Wales, but with no Archduke in England, he is the highest ranking noble in the British Isles.

There was something about the message that was delivered that does not make sense to the Duke, however, "What monitors?" he asked.

"My Lord, the magic detectors that were installed to monitor the Oath, of course," the man at the other end said. He sound bewildered when he said that, and Lord Alexander guessed that that was because the man had expected that the man in charge of the British Isles was aware of the existence of magical monitors that were placed specifically to monitor the actions of the magical minority in the Isles. Truth to tell, Lord Alexander was not even aware that it was possible for wards to be tied to the Oath, much less the fact that there are actually wards that was set up specifically to do that.

He would have to worry about that later, however, because the message that the man on the other end of the conversation had delivered was more important, once the implications behind the message was clear to Lord Alexander.

It meant that someone in the British Isles was planning – or perhaps, already had, but if that was the case, Lord Alexander was sure that it would not be some functionary from the Ministry of the Interior who would be waking him up, it would be his own staff – on severing the Oath.

'_That also means that they found a way to sever the Oath,'_ the Duke smiled as he continued his thoughts, '_truth to tell, it was not that hard.'_

"How large is the cataclysm?" Lord Alexander asked, he forced himself to return to the conversation on hand.

'_The man had to be checking a report of some kind,_' Lord Alexander though as there was a pause at the other end of the line once more, and the answer, when it came, was exactly as Lord Alexander had expected, "It's not a big event, My Lord," the man explained, "We believe that it is just an intent to sever, not an actual severance."

"Yet, this means that there is someone out there with an intent to sever," Lord Alexander quickly added, he was more than prepared to bet who that 'someone' is, but for the sake of appearance, he could not say that to a man that he had never even met, never mind a man whose loyalty he was not sure of. After a brief, pregnant, pause on the side of Lord Alexander, "Has the other appropriate and relevant agencies been informed?" he asked.

"Those that are cleared to know the existence of the office had been informed, My Lord," the man replied, and Lord Alexander fought the urge to ask if he is, in fact, one of those who had been cleared to know.

With a shrug, the Duke told himself that he must be one of those in the clear, else, why would this man be calling him to inform him of the situation.

"Very well," Lord Alexander said, his tone of voice already warning the man on the other end that he was already ready to end the conversation. The man on the other end was more than happy to follow, "Please continue to monitor the situation and warn me as soon as there is a change."

"Yes, My Lord," the man replied.

Lord Alexander replaced the receiver of the phone back to its rest position a few moments later. A sigh escaped from his lips as he turned his attention toward the young woman who was lying on the surface of the bed with him, and when he saw that not only was she awake, she was also staring at him with a hard expression, the only indication that he was surprised was his eyes widened for a few moments, but he was quick on the uptake and regained his neutral expression without any problem.

"Hogwarts is planning to rebel?" Lady Emma asked as she propped herself on the bed. She was wearing what she always wore to bed – a silky affair that left little to the imagination, but since this is her bed as well, that was to be expected – and Lord Alexander found it hard to concentrate, not when she asked that question with that neutral expression on her face, yet always seem to captivate him.

"It was not as if this was not expected," the Duke replied a few moments later, he tried to turn his attention away from the woman who would someday – and he hoped that that someday would be today – become his wife, but he was only successful in that endeavor after she resumed lying down on the bed, hiding her body underneath the heavy blankets, "The ball is now in their court, and we just need to see how they would play this matter."

Lady Emma shook her head, "He never strike me as the smart one," she replied, and before Lord Alexander could ask the question of who she was referring to, she added, "and that opinion is not limited to the Headmaster, I am afraid."

Lord Alexander agreed, "It does not matter, really," he replied as he returned to bed, "He is just playing into our hands."

Unbidden, the images of the heavy cruisers that he had patrolling along the east coast of Scotland flashed into his mind. Those ships would be of great use at the grounds of Hogwarts, but the Duke knew that he could not send them. The collateral damage that those things could do would not be worth their sending there, not when Lord Alexander had other goal in mind.

Lady Emma smiled at him, and he could not help but smile back, though before he could say anything, she quickly said, "This is the start, then," and though it was phrased like a question, there was no doubt that it was a statement.

Still, Lord Alexander could not help but agree with her, "This is the start," he said, and though it was hard for him to do so, the young Duke forced himself to remove his attention from the direction of the woman that he knew would someday be his wife. He did this so that he could focus his attention toward the direction of the verandah in their room, a verandah that faces in the general direction of the south, toward the general direction of the official residence of the Emperor of the Holy Empire, Pendragon.

More importantly, toward the direction of the Golden Throne of the Holy Empire of Britannia.

**Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry**

**Near Inverness, Scotland, British Isles**

**October 24, 1995**

Although there were very few people were even aware of the contents of the orders that had arrived at the communications tent of the brigade that morning, there could be no doubt that everyone in camp was well aware that new orders had been received.

They knew this because they knew that without direct orders from the capital, their immediate superiors – Brigadier General Arnott and the three colonels who command each of the three battalions – could not have called the entire brigade into alert. There are even rumors that the three other direct combat units of the division – the last brigade, 'E' brigade is the attached artillery brigade of the division, making it a direct support unit – have already left their camps further south and are already moving north to reinforce 'C' Brigade.

The fact that very few were aware of the contents of the orders that had sent the brigade into alert had also caused the ordinary soldiers to create rumors between themselves as to the reason behind the mobilization. As the soldiers received additional magazines from the quartermasters, they speculated amongst themselves as to the reason behind the alert.

Rumors ranging from Hogwarts attempting to defect to intelligence receiving reports that Hogwarts was about to be invaded run rampant amongst the rank and file, not helped by the fact that the soldiers are running everywhere.

An earlier rumor that the British Isles had been invaded by the Prussian Empire was quick to bite the dust after the soldiers received instructions to build hasty fortifications around their camp. Obediently, soldiers began to mount heavy machineguns – taken from the cupolas of their service vehicles – all around their camp, because they were told to do so, an order that did nothing to thwart the growing rumors.

Of course, the reason that the general had ordered his men to mount defensive posts facing _away_ from the castle was because he does not want to tip the enemy – and in the mind of General Arnott, Hogwarts, or at least the Headmaster and his loyal followers, are already the enemy – that he was already aware that they are about to betray the Empire, not until his defenses are complete anyway.

As they are not officially part of the brigade, Harry and his cadets have not received orders to report to the brigade quartermaster and take out rifles. Instead, the young heir to the Potter name and his classmates were ordered to report to the headquarters of Brigadier General Arnott and act as staff officers for the time being, thought that did not mean that they became privy to the reason behind the mobilization.

"Sir, 2nd Battalion reports that they have completed their trenches and that all of their company commanders have accounted for their men at the trenches," one of the permanent staff officers of Brigadier General Arnott said just as Harry entered the command tent. The young cadet could still remember the earlier instructions of the general to the colonel commanding that battalion. The 2nd was supposed to be the flying company of the brigade, the one that would assist either the 1st battalion or the 3rd battalion in their original missions, storm the castle or defend the castle.

The brigadier acknowledged the report of his staff before he turned toward Harry, just in time to watch as the young man saluted, "Sir," Harry reported, "Reporting as ordered."

General Arnott acknowledged the salute of Harry, but the older man did not even bother to return the salute. He was already operating on field rules, and according to the rules of the field, it was no longer allowed for subordinates to salute their superiors – just in case there is a sniper in the area.

"How is Cadet Brooke?" the general asked, though he made it clear with the tone of his voice that asking that question was not the reason that he asked for Harry.

"Still unconscious, sir," Harry replied, "the doctor reports that his vitals are improving though, so he should be out of any danger by now," he still felt miserable about what had happened to his partner, a feeling that was not helped by the fact that it was him who had stunned Edward.

Harry knew that his decision was the right one, but even the knowledge of that did not help lessen his guilt.

General Arnott gave a single nod to indicate that he heard the report of Harry. For a few moments, there was silence between the two as the commander of 'C' Brigade turned his attention toward his staff, as if he wanted to ask if there was a new report coming in, but at that moment there was none, so the general returned his attention toward Harry and gave him his instructions, "I need you and one of your classmates to check the walls of the school," the general said, "Don't let them see you."

Harry was not sure what to make of the order that he had been given. The young cadet knew that the mission was one of reconnaissance, but the fact that he had been ordered not to be seen left an aftertaste in his mouth as bad as the one that he had had after he stunned his partner. It does not make sense to him because the order that he had received, it was an order that he expected to be given to him at wartime.

'_We're still at peace here, right?'_ Harry asked himself as he saluted his commander before he hurriedly left the command tent to find his classmates and chose one of them to accompany him for the reconnaissance work that he was about to do.

**Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry**

**Near Inverness, Scotland, British Isles**

**October 24, 1995**

The movement at the camp was not one that was designed to be hidden from view. That was the reason that the Headmaster of Hogwarts was able to watch the developing chaos at the camp from the vantage point provided by his seventh floor office.

It did not make much sense to the Headmaster, the old man had to admit, but he somehow knew that the soldiers on the grounds of his school are scrambling because of something that he had done. He cannot fathom how they knew that he was about to break his ties with the Golden Throne, but at the same time, he assured himself that even if the soldiers knew, there was nothing that they could do about it.

The Headmaster actually chuckled as he assured himself that the soldiers would not even see his castle when he severs the Oath. For all the superior firepower of the three thousand men that were now gathered at his grounds could be, they could not shoot something that they could not see.

"Headmaster," the voice of his Deputy Headmistress tore the Headmaster out of his reverie. Fortunately for him, he had already stopped chuckling before Minerva McGonagall had placed her head in her fireplace to call him, it would do him no good if his subordinates were to see him chuckling for no apparent reason, his reputation would surely take a hit.

"Yes, Minerva," the Headmaster asked at the same moment that he spun on his heel so that he could face toward the direction of his fireplace, "How may I help you?"

Albus already knew what his deputy was going to say even before she said it, in fact, he already knew what she was going to say even before she struck her head at her fireplace, "Alastor and several others have just arrived via floo, Albus," she said, the confusion evident in her voice, "They are requesting to see you."

"Of course, Minerva, send them in please," the Headmaster said.

There was no confusion on the part of the Headmaster – unlike his Deputy Headmistress – over the arrival of the man that once led the combat arm – an arm that was not known to most members of the Order to have existed – of the Order of the Phoenix. That was because it was the Headmaster who had asked for him to come in the first place.

Minerva had also not mentioned who those others that are with Alastor are, but the Headmaster did not need her to. He was sure that Alastor had done exactly as he had asked and had gathered the members of his combat arm, despite the fact that the Headmaster had actually not told him anything regarding the reason that he had asked for them.

At the height of the war, the combat arm of the Order had around three hundred men and women within its ranks, not all of them – in fact, most of them – members of the Order. That made it easier for the combat arm to remain a secret to all but the most trusted – by the Headmaster – members of the Order. With the end of the war, the combat arm had tried to remain intact, but because most of the members loved fighting, the relative peace had not suited them and they tend to drift to places where their only talents – fighting – are always in demand.

It would have taken the Headmaster at least a month in order to get everyone back, and even then, he was not sure that he could get all of them, but the Headmaster was confident that the one hundred or so men and women members of his combat arm who are still within the British Isles would be more than enough for the coming battle.

A few moments later, the musings of the Headmaster was interrupted when he heard the familiar staccato rhythm of wood hitting wood. Alastor Moody had lost one of his legs during a duel against Lord Voldemort himself and had replaced it with a peg leg. Nowadays, everyone knew that he is coming because of the sound that it made.

"What the hell is this about, Albus?" Alastor asked as he approached his old friend. There would always be no exchange of pleasantries between the two men, they knew each other too well for that to be required.

The Headmaster of Hogwarts did not reply right away, instead, he turned his attention away from his friend and toward the other men who came up with Alastor. The size of his office meant that not every one of the one hundred men and women whom he expected could show his or her face, but he knew the captains of his combat arm, and all of the captains that he had expected to be here are here.

A slight smile crossed the features of the Headmaster at that. He had just finished gathering his forces at his fortress.


	13. Chapter XIII

**A/N: **I do not own Harry Potter or anything associated with it.

* * *

**THIRTEEN**

**Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry**

**Near Inverness, Scotland, British Isles**

**October 24, 1995**

Although it has been claimed by many contemporary Hogwarts historians that the room where the wards of the castle – the ward room, as it were – are controlled was located beside the office of the Headmaster, nothing could be further from the truth, and in this case, that may be literally.

The truth is, the ward room was located just behind the Great Hall of Hogwarts. The students of Hogwarts – and after they had graduated, the alumni – had no idea that the room that is the source of the power that protects the castle was actually behind the long table where the faculty of the school eat every day, in fact, most of the staff are not even aware of it themselves, making the wrong assumption that the room was located near the office of the Headmaster.

That was not an entirely illogical assumption, however, since only the Headmaster or the Deputy could actually enter the room without permission. Typically, the only one who could give permission is the Headmaster himself, and that is the reason why aside from the current Headmaster and Deputy Headmistress, the resident potions master could enter the room uninvited.

Albus Dumbledore purposely walked toward the hidden door just underneath the giant coat-of-arms of the school. This hidden door is the only entrance toward the ward room, and as always, he felt a sense of satisfaction from within as he reminded himself that he had learned about this door before the end of his third year in the castle, despite the fact that he was not supposed to know. When he became Deputy Headmaster to Headmaster Dippet, he had to feign surprise when the old man told him about the entrance.

Behind the Headmaster, a bodyguard unit of twenty wizards and witches followed. No doubt their presence – with their wands out and with their attention focused toward all directions – would have caused some wonderment amongst the students, but because it was already late in the evening, there are no students in the Great Hall. All students are actually inside their dorm rooms, with the exception of a few on-duty Prefects and the occasional delinquents who make a point of disregarding curfew every chance they get.

The bodyguard unit was composed of some of the fastest casters in the hit squad of the Order, and they had been given the objective of protecting the Headmaster while he works on cancelling the Oath against the chance that the government had managed to sneak in a few assassins in the castle.

The rest of the members of the hit squad are currently deploying all around the castle just in case this turns into a real battle, but the Headmaster was confident that there would be no battle because the muggles would not be able to see the castle after he was done. The Headmaster was also prepared to bet that after he had invoked the clause that would sever his Oath with the Golden Throne, the muggle repelling wards would kick in and the huge army of muggles encamped outside his castle would be thrown into confusion.

When that happens, the Headmaster had charged five of his best duelers – under the leadership of Alastor Moody – to charge through the muggles, arrest Harry Potter, and bring him back into the castle. The Headmaster was sure that the boy would be of no threat to the five duelers that he was prepared to send.

The Headmaster paused before the hidden door for a few moments. He closed his eyes and gathered his powers around him before he sent a mild command to the door to open. Slowly, the door – which was seemingly built into the stone walls of the Great Hall – opened to reveal a passageway.

The Headmaster entered the room and soon found himself in front of a large stone. The stone –which was hexagonal in shape and was glowing with an eerie pink color, though the Headmaster was more than use to seeing the glow – appeared to be floating in mid-air, held in place only by chains that are obviously made of the tendrils of magic and glowing as well, though not as bright as the stone itself.

The witches and wizards that form his bodyguard unit might be surprised by the glowing – and by the sheer size – of the stone, but because they have been left behind by the Headmaster, there was no need to worry about that.

Albus reached out for the stone and his palm landed at the bottom of the stone, allowing him to feel the impossibly smooth surface of the ward stone. Above the Headmaster, lightning arched, as if the magic of the stone was acknowledging him and his power.

Albus knew that this stone is the centerpiece of the castle. This stone is the reason why, no matter how many enemies had tried, the castle had remained standing over nearly one thousand years without the need for repair. This stone is also the reason why within the walls of Hogwarts, the ward room is the room where the most magic is concentrated, and the Headmaster knew that he would need that magic in order to invoke the severance clause of the Oath.

The Headmaster closed his eyes at the same time that he withdrew his hand from the stone. Once his hand was beside him again, Albus gathered his considerable powers around him, and the stone responded to his show of strength. Tendrils of magic lashed all around the room, but the stone acknowledged Albus as the guardian of the school, and while the tendrils smashed against everything inside, it left Albus at the same time that the stone actually cast a shield around the Headmaster.

With his eyes closed, the Headmaster could not actually see the shield, but he knew from his readings since he had made the plan that the stone would protect him. It is not enough that he truly believed that the Oath needs to be severed – he had learned that his belief that the Oath is necessary had powered the Oath when it was first used against him – he needed some sort of protection against the considerable power of the Oath, and the only power source that could provide that much power is the ward stone of Hogwarts.

Chanting under his breath, the Headmaster began the ritual, unknowingly treating the soldiers outside – who are actually on alert – to a lights show that they had never heard – much less seen – before or after. The shields of Hogwarts flickered as invisible tendrils of magic tried to assault the Headmaster, only to be stopped cold by the shield cast by the ward stone. Unfortunately, that meant that the stone had to divert power from the shields of the school.

Soon, it became apparent to the patrolling prefects that something was wrong, at the same time that they realized that they are glad that most students are actually in their dorms. This is because the staircases suddenly started to go haywire, followed quickly by the portraits. At the second floor girls comfort room, water taps were actually blown clear off of pipes, causing significant flooding even as the ghosts of Hogwarts found that their hold on this reality was not as strong as it was supposed to be.

With his eyes closed and his concentration focused on the ritual that he was performing, the Headmaster ignored the mental alarms in his head, alarms that were supposed to warn him of the wards failing.

Twenty minutes after the Headmaster started the ritual, he entered the final phrase. As he prepared to invoke the final severance – the one that would actually sever the Oath – the ward stone actually stopped glowing. Pain nearly overcame the mind of the Headmaster as the invisible tendrils finally found no resistance, but as soon as it began, it was over. The ward stone recovered easily enough and was quick to recast the shield around the person that it recognized as its guardian.

Suddenly, Albus Dumbledore opened his eyes, and for a few moments, the color of his eyes reflected the power that had been given to him. With a theatrical stamp of his right leg, the Headmaster of Hogwarts severed the Oath, and unbeknownst to him, the moment that he did, there was actually an explosion inside the castle itself.

The ritual done, the Headmaster actually fell to his knees, finally feeling the power around him. It took him a good five minutes before he felt that he had recovered enough to actually get to his feet and another three minutes before he could negotiate the steep staircase that led him back to the hidden door in the Great Hall.

Unfortunately for the Headmaster, the moment that he returned to the Hall, he was beset by his followers which now include a panicking Alastor Moody.

The Headmaster had to admit that he had never seen the paranoid auror acting like this before, and he instinctively knew that it was not good news. Almost at once, his tiredness was forgotten as Dumbledore the general made itself known.

"Report," the Headmaster demanded.

"The muggles have surrounded us," Moody replied, he might be panic-stricken at that point, but he still presented his report with as much objectivity as he could, "All sides of the castle have detachments of muggles, and they have their weapons pointed at us."

'_That's not possible'_ the Headmaster thought to himself, but wisely, he decided not to voice his thoughts out loud. Instead, he headed straight to the fireplace at the Great Hall, throwing floo powder into the flames at the same time. Behind him, Alastor and the rest followed.

The Headmaster had called for his office the moment that he stepped into the flames so that was where he ended up. He knew that his office would provide him a good vantage point with which to look into the grounds so that was where he decided to go.

Inside his office, Severus and a few others were waiting. The potions master of Hogwarts was actually nervous, but that was obviously not shared by his companions. Still, it was the potions master who had to make the report.

"We are surrounded," Severus said, "and there is no way that there are just three thousand soldiers out there, Headmaster."

"We could fight our way out," one of the witches in the room suddenly said, "They are just muggles."

"We are not here to fight our way out," Snape retorted, actually causing the offended witch to cower and step back despite the obviously nervous look on the face of the potions master, "Hogwarts was supposed to be our base, we cannot abandon it."

"We could hold," another voice opined, "We hold the higher ground, Headmaster, we could hold."

Severus had to admit that there was nothing he could think of at that moment that would negate what the man had said, but luckily for him, he realized that he had no need to contradict the man, the muggles outside are about to do it for them.

The lights that suddenly appeared in mid-air over the Black Lake obviously came from a ship. Whether that ship had just arrived or it had been there all this time with its lights just turned off was something that was not particularly important at that moment, what was important was that the ship was there.

Every pair of eyes turned to look at the ship. From the lights on the vessel, it was obviously smaller than the ship that the Prince had used to visit the castle, but that would not have mattered because it was obvious that the ship also had guns. Suddenly, anymore thoughts were interrupted when another ship suddenly turned on its lights, quickly followed by three more, revealing the fact that there are five ships over the Black Lake.

'_One ship was bad enough, but five of them…'_ Severus thought.

The potions master opened his mouth to say something, but what he was about to say was quickly drowned out by screams of fear as the five ships, in unison, turned their guns toward the castle, a clear warning that not only could they still see the castle, they are actually prepared to fire.

"They won't risk it," the same witch who had suggested fighting their way out opined, "There are students in this castle."

Severus was about to say something, but he was cut off once more, though this time, luckily, it was not by the muggles outside but by Alastor Moody, "We are the ones who cannot risk it," the grizzled ex-auror corrected her, "They could and they would as well."

"Headmaster," Snape began.

"Can the wards hold?" the Headmaster asked. It was obvious that the man was leaning toward ordering his people to stand and fight.

'_Can he not see how stupid and senseless that would be?'_ Severus asked, but he did not voice his thoughts as he was, at that time, busy looking at the faces of the members of the combat arm of the Order inside the room. Obviously, they are prepared to fight, and it was obvious that they would give the answer that would favor their choice.

"It won't," Alastor Moody said, surprising everyone in the room, Severus included. The potions master realized, though, that he should not be surprised. Moody was a realist, and the ex-auror realized that there was no way that they could stand up with the force that was being brought to bear against them.

"Wards are at ten percent strength," Severus concurred, "It may be enough to confuse a few muggles and defend against an attack by a horde of centaurs, but not against the muggles," he angrily shook his head before he added, "Filius is right, those ships, their guns could fire shells that would not be affected by our wards."

"Running is our only option?" the Headmaster asked.

Immediately, there were groans of protests from the members of the combat arm, but the Headmaster silenced them by raising his hand in a stopping motion.

"Afraid so," Alastor Moody confirmed, "There are instances when we can stand and fight, Albus, but this is clearly not the time, we could not defend against the muggles with our wards so depleted, and even if they are at full strength, we could not risk the students."

"Then running is our only option," the Headmaster concluded sadly.

"We would hold the castle while you and the others seek shelter and safety, Headmaster," one of the Order wizards offered.

"No," the Headmaster replied, his voice laced with his power, "One day we would return back to Hogwarts and take it back, for that day to come, we would need every wand we could spare," he shook his head for emphasis before he added, "Right now, we cannot afford senseless self-sacrifice and losses, we must conserve our strength for the day that we would return to this castle."

**Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry**

**Near Inverness, Scotland, British Isles**

**October 25, 1995**

The moment that she saw the relatively large ship – and the consorts of said ship – on the surface of the waters of the Black Lake from the window of her dorm in the tower reserved for the Gryffindor House, Hermione knew that something had changed overnight.

For a few moments, she felt a bit cheated that she was not awake when that changes – whatever that changes was – occurred. She would have loved to be a first-hand witness to that – for Hermione knew that whatever else had changed overnight, it would be something that would someday be remembered as an event that had shaped the history of the Holy Empire and would someday have its own portraits amongst those that hung on the walls of Britannian embassies around the world – but after a few moments, she realized that she should probably be thankful that she was asleep when that change happened.

It was obvious from the fact that what had happened while majority of the students of Hogwarts slept had ended in the favor of the Holy Empire. There was no doubt about that, but Hermione knew that if it were otherwise, then those ships would not be there, more to the point, if it had been otherwise, then the Gryffindor fifth year prefect was sure that neither the school nor her would be there at that moment.

The change became more pronounced when Hermione and her dorm mates – for they had taken the habit of walking to the Great Hall together just in case – arrived at the ground floor of the school. When the soldiers of the Holy Empire arrived, they had kept their activities outside the castle, so much so that there are quite a few rumors that the soldiers could not actually enter the castle.

Today however, that rumor was dispelled as thoroughly as possible. two soldiers stood guard beside the grand staircase of the school, and from the way that they are dressed – in combat fatigues – and the way that they are armed – with rifles that Hermione was sure was loaded and with bayonets at the end – Hermione was sure that they meant business.

Four more soldiers actually guarded the entrance to the Great Hall itself, plus a man with a single silver bar on both of his shoulders, the rank insignia of a first lieutenant with the Holy Empire Ground Forces.

'_Seems to be some sort of announcement,'_ Hermione thought to herself as she led her dorm mates past the threshold that separates the Great Hall from the Hallway of Hogwarts, '_then dinner would have been the perfect time to make it, but it seems that whatever it is, it could not wait.'_

Inside the Great Hall, armed soldiers were lined up against the sides. Although all are armed, not a single one of them had his rifle in his arms; but then again, Hermione knew how fast those soldiers could have their guns at the ready. It was clear that the commander of 'C' Brigade was not going to take any chances again.

'_It's not the prince who is coming to visit, though,'_ Hermione thought to herself. She had been informed by Harry that Lord Alexander had returned to the mainland, but at the same time, the only one who would rate this much security – that Hermione could think of – is the Prince of Scotland and Prince of Wales.

As she thought about Harry, Hermione could not help but look around the Great Hall in an attempt to look for him. As she did so, her gaze first turned toward the table at the other end of the Hall, opposite the table of Gryffindor.

At the Slytherin table, Draco Malfoy and his cronies looked as if they had swallowed something bad and they really needed to spit it out. Unfortunately, it would also seem that the presence of the soldiers – and there are more soldiers on their side of the hall than anywhere else – had made that impossible.

At the Gryffindor table, there is another kind of trouble brewing. Evidently, the fact that she had been practically humiliated in front of the entire school had not dissuaded Ginny Weasley at the slightest – that or the fact that she was humiliated was actually egging her on. The only female Weasley of her generation was staring at Hermione with a murderous look, but, as with Draco Malfoy, the presence of the soldiers seems to keep her in check.

Although Hermione had already looked around the hall, she still failed to see Harry. She was actually able to locate both Brigadier General Arnott and the cadets who were the classmates of Harry – minus Cadet Brooke who is still unconscious and Harry himself – beside the general.

A slight frown crossed the features of Hermione as she wondered where Harry was, but before she could further her thoughts, she realized that something else was wrong, or at least, unusual. There were two other men that Hermione had never seen before standing with Brigadier General Arnott.

Of course, Hermione would not pretend that she knew every face from the camp; for one thing, there are over three thousand soldiers in that camp. What was unusual though, was that Hermione saw the rank insignia that the two other men wore on their shoulders. Like General Arnott, they are wearing one triangle each, the rank insignia of a Brigadier General.

"The rest of the division came over?" Hermione suddenly asked, and though she barely opened her mouth when she said that, it was clear that the two girls on either side of her – Parvarti and Lavender – heard her. The two girls turned their attention toward Hermione, a questioning look on their face as the three girls effectively stopped short of their table.

"Hermione?" Lavender was the one who got to ask the question that was obviously at the forefront of the mind of both girls.

Hermione would have responded to the question, but at the moment that she turned her attention toward her dorm mate, one of the doors located behind and slightly to the side of the staff table opened and Harry walked out of the antechamber. The cadet leader was dressed in his formal uniform with his sword by his side. The fact that his classmates are dressed in their everyday uniform provided a sharp contrast.

Before Harry could actually put some distance between him and the door, however, another man stepped out of the ante-chamber behind the Great Hall of Hogwarts, and Hermione could see the two triangles on both of his shoulders.

Harry caught the eyes of Hermione with his own, and she could not help but smile as she stared at his emerald green irises. She saw the slight smile on his lips, but he was always able to keep up facades, and that was what he did in this situation as he gave Hermione a slight nod to encourage her slightly to take her seat.

For a few moments, Hermione was confused, but she consoled herself by telling herself that Harry would be able to explain the reasoning behind his actions later, so she decided to just comply with his request. With a slight motion to her friends, she beckoned them to follow her and that was what they did.

They had barely taken their seats when two more people stepped out of the ante-chamber, and this time, Hermione recognized them. Like their son, both Lord James and Lady Lily were formal, though in the case of the Potter elders, formal meant court dress rather than the military uniform that Harry had on him. This, however, was to be expected given that Lord James was never in the military.

The presence of the two, however, was unexpected, given everything that Harry had told her regarding their positions within the Imperial government hierarchy. With a start as she settled on her seat at the bench, Hermione realized that something big had happened, though if she was being honest with herself, she had to admit that she knew that something big had happened the moment that he realized that an entire ground forces division of the Imperial military had arrived at the grounds of her school.

The last person to walk out of the antechamber was none other than the Deputy Headmistress of the school. Minerva McGonagall was dressed in fine robes, but for a few moments, not a single student had their attention at her as they all focused their attention toward the direction of the portal to the antechamber, expecting Albus Dumbledore to walk out of the chamber and explain to the student what was going on, but after a few moments, it became clear that those who continued to wait for their Headmaster was waiting in vain.

Hermione was not one of those who were waiting for the Headmaster. The moment that she saw the Deputy Headmistress walk out of the antechamber, she knew that the Headmaster would not be following her, in fact, the fifth year Gryffindor prefect was quite sure that the Headmaster was not even inside the school anymore, if he was still inside the country.

Lord James approaching the staff table tore Hermione out of her reverie, just as effectively as it tore the reverie that the other students seemed to have fallen into. All attention turned toward the direction of Lord James just as the imperial noble stepped up onto the platform where the table was set-up.

The confused look on the faces of some of the professors – and the fact that Professor Snape was missing from the table – did not help the students one bit, and when the first words came out of the mouth of Lord James, some students actually looked as if they wanted to shout, with only the fact that the imperial soldiers around the hall had unstrapped their rifles and had them at port arms the only reason that discipline within the hall was maintained.

"I have an important announcement," the voice of Lord James was loud, but the Imperial Viscount had no need to raise his voice. The acoustics inside the Hall may have something to do with it, but it was obvious that his voice was magically amplified, "and it concerns the fate of Albus Dumbledore, the former Headmaster of this school."

The fact that Albus Dumbledore had been labeled as the 'former Headmaster' should have elicited some gasps of surprise and confusion from the gathered students, but for some reason, they kept to themselves. Perhaps it was because they realized that the announcement of Lord James was that important, but it was possible that the soldiers inside the Hall had more to do with that fact.

"Albus Dumbledore," Lord James continued, "Has fled Hogwarts last night, together with his followers, after he attempted to do something stupid."

Lord James paused at this juncture and he turned his gaze forward as he looked around the Hall. The Viscount of Lisbourne was practically daring anyone inside the Hall to react to the words that came out of his mouth, but Hermione knew that Lord James was aware that there would be no dissenters coming from the students or staff, not when they are surrounded by armed soldiers.

"The former Headmaster of this school," Lord James continued, "In a mistaken assumption that the Holy Empire and those who serve the Golden Throne would be cowed, declared war against the Golden Throne last night, while inside this school."

"Albus Dumbledore had thought that the defenses of the castle would assist him in this foolish endeavor, disregarding the fact that this is a school where hundreds of children reside, the traitorous former Headmaster gathered an unknown number of witches and wizards with the intention of fortifying Hogwarts castle," Lord James continued, "had he succeeded in his plans, not only would young, innocent students be caught in the crossfire, it is possible that the Headmaster would actually use them as hostages."

"The Holy Empire had promised itself that it would never be cowed, not by foreign enemies and certainly not by traitors who are way in over their head," Lord James continued, "Albus Dumbledore had realized this at the wrong time, and after realizing that he and his small army could not stand against the soldiers and sailors of the Holy Empire, the Headmaster did what traitors are infamous for," a predatory smile crossed the features of Lord James at that, and even those who were seated far away from where the Viscount was making his speech could see the smile, "He fled."

"Currently, we do not know the exact location of the former Headmaster of Hogwarts, but now know this, Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore has been declared as a traitor to the Holy Empire, and upon his head, the Golden Throne had placed a bounty of five million imperial pounds, roughly equal to two hundred ninety thousand galleons."

This time, there were gasps of surprise, but Hermione realized that the gasps were a direct result not of the fact that their former Headmaster is now a wanted criminal with a bounty on his head, but of the fact that the bounty on his head was that much.

Lord James allowed the murmurings that had started following the gasps of surprise that came from the students to continue for a few moments, but after a while, he stopped the murmurings, though he did not do so with the use of any outward physical movement other than the moving of his mouth. Instead, the viscount just continued with what he wanted to say, "In addition," he started, instantly plunging the Hall into silence once more as everyone now wanted to hear what he was going to say, certain that the former Hogwarts Head Boy was about to drop another bombshell, "The people who had fled with the Headmaster, although unknown, each have a bounty of ten thousand imperial pounds on their heads, save for a few who are known and have more on their heads, the full list of those would be made available to the public as soon as possible."

Hermione was very certain that Professor Severus Snape would be amongst those who would be included in the list. The fifth year Gryffindor prefect was prepared to bet that the potions master of Hogwarts – '_well, former Potions master now,'_ Hermione thought – would be amongst those who would be considered at the top of the list, probably alongside their former Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor, Alastor Moody.

"Now," Lord James continued, "We are not here simply to make this announcement, rather, we are here for something far more important," and at this, the Viscount of Lisbourne turned his attention toward his former Head of House and mentor, Minerva McGonagall, "My wife and I are here to see the new Headmistress of this school take over the reins of heading this prestigious school from her disgraced predecessor and to preside as Headmistress Minerva McGonagall, formerly Deputy Headmistress and Head of Gryffindor House, take her Oath to the Golden Throne."

**Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry**

**Near Inverness, Scotland, British Isles**

**October 25, 1995**

Of all the Houses in Hogwarts, perhaps no other house had been more shocked at the announcement of the fact that Albus Dumbledore is now a traitor than Slytherin House. Of course, this was not helped by the fact that their Head of House – Severus Snape – was missing and presumed to be amongst those who had fled with the Headmaster.

The fact that most of the students of Slytherin hated Albus Dumbledore contributed nothing to the anxiety and dread that most members of the House now felt. They were all but certain that they are about to be purged, and at the same time, they are not sure if they could depend on the new Headmistress to protect them, given her recent past and the fact that Slytherin and Gryffindor hate each other with a passion that extended to their Heads of House.

Of course, the ones who are the most anxious and afraid of how the events had turned to would be a small band of Slytherin students in their fifth year. These are the Hogwarts students whose father and mothers were amongst the most supportive of the Dark Lord Voldemort, the ones who had actually flocked under the banner of the Dark Lord back when he was still alive and powerful, the ones who had caused no small amount of headaches for both the Ministry of Magic and the non-magical government of the British Isles.

These students were all but certain that they would be targeted and disposed of in the coming days; after all, regime changes are always immediately followed by sweeping purges in the magical world. The fact that one of their numbers was already disposed of, even _before_ the purge had officially began, did nothing to alleviate their fears that they would soon be next.

After Minerva McGonagall had taken her oath as Headmistress and affirmed her Oath to the Golden Throne, the students were sent back to their dorms given that classes had been cancelled. The students of Slytherin House needed assurances and encouragements, and none more than the fifth year class.

It was for the reason of giving assurances and encouragement to his classmates that one of the fifth year Slytherin students had called for a meeting. Using his authority as the fifth year prefect for Slytherin, Draco Malfoy had called for his classmates at the empty potions classroom. The fact that the office of Severus Snape was already empty also did nothing to calm the nerves of the students who looked harassed as they entered the room one by one.

Once all the students of Slytherin in fifth year were inside the room – including the scions of two pureblood families that are famous, or infamous, for their neutrality – Draco stood and addressed them.

"I know," the young Malfoy family scion began, "that most, if not all, of you are anxious about the events that had happened, and we have a right to be so."

"Despite our outward stance of neutrality" – and at this, he nodded subtly toward Daphne Greengrass and Blaise Zabini, the scions of two families that would just never openly declare their allegiance – "We all have reasons to believe that we would soon be purged from this school."

Both Daphne and Blaise looked unconcerned with the words that Draco had just uttered, but the two young students are well aware that despite their outward stance of neutrality, their respective families have had numerous dealings with the Dark Lord during the war. In addition, their respective business practices are not what one would exactly call to be in the licit side of things, either in their world or in the muggle world.

"Do we prepare to flee?" Pansy Parkison, self-declared Queen of Slytherin and girlfriend of Draco Malfoy, asked. From the way that she asked that question, it was obvious that Draco, despite their relationship, had not seen fit to discuss things with her, and as a result of that, she was as anxious, if not more so, as everyone in the room.

"Preparations are already being made," Draco assured his classmates. He need not even look at them after he said that to know that despite his assurances, his classmates are still afraid, so he continued, giving them information that he had obtained from his father many weeks ago, even before they had considered what had just happened as possible, much less inevitable, "My father had informed me that preparations had been made that would allow us to escape from the British Isles as soon as we could and seek refuge somewhere else."

"Pull a Dumbledore?" Theodore Nott – one of the more level-headed students of the fifth year Slytherin House – asked. There was a look of disgust on the face of Theo, however, as he added, "Are we going to join with the old Headmaster who had always stood against us? Are we going to combine with him in the hopes that we could defeat the muggles?"

Draco could understand the look of disgust on the face of his classmate after he had voiced his thoughts, and the self-declared king of Slytherin House could certainly understand the reason behind that look. The Dark Side and the Light Side of magic could never work together, even if it is against a common enemy.

"No," Draco quickly replied, forestalling any more voices of dissent that could be brought about by that misunderstanding, "Plans to evacuate the British Isles had been in place even before this event had happened, even before the muggles came to Hogwarts."

For a few moments, silence descended around the room as each person inside considered the implications of what Draco had just revealed. The Dark side had planned to leave even before these events had started, it was pretty clear to everyone that their side had just realized that they could not win at that moment and because of that, they are tucking their tails between their legs and running away. It certainly was not the action that most of the gathered students inside the classroom had expected.

**Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry**

**Near Inverness, Scotland, British Isles**

**October 25, 1995**

In the end, Harry was exactly where Hermione expected him to be, in the camp. Hermione had gone looking for him the moment that the Oath taking of the new Headmistress had been completed. The fact that classes had been cancelled had been of great assistance to Hermione, but because of the fact that she is known to be under the protection of Lord James Potter, there are a lot of people who had never talked to her before who had approached her.

Her intention of catching up with Harry right after the ceremony was forestalled by such actions of people that she shared a home with but never had any reason to talk to before. In any case, she quickly realized that even if the strangers – or practically strangers – had not approached her, she still would not have been able to speak with Harry given the fact that the cadet leader and his parents had disappeared back into the antechamber from where they came from before the ceremony started.

Lavender and Parvarti had invited her to spend the afternoon after the ceremony in the library with the intention of catching up with their school work. Now that there is a new Headmistress, the general feeling of the population within the castle was that everything was going to go back to normal, so the fifth years found themselves back in the midst of preparing for their important end of year exams.

Needless to say, she begged off with the excuse that she wanted to speak with Harry, and the two girls had accepted her excuse even as Hermione pretended not to see them as they both swooned. Neither had she told the two girls about the fact that she and Harry had kissed, for she was certain that should the two girls find out about that, they would never let her hear the end of it.

It was bad enough that they are swooning every time the name of Harry would be mentioned when she is near, it would be worse should the two girls hear that she and Harry had kissed.

Hermione shook her head as she forced herself to return to the present. She realized that she would have to practically run in order that she could catch up with Harry before he enters the camp – because despite the fact that Hermione is under the umbrella of Lord James, she is still a civilian and as such, would need permission in order to enter an active military base – but at the moment that Hermione was about to launch herself toward Harry, he stopped as if something had forced him to.

There was already a smile on the face of Hermione by the time that Harry had turned his attention toward her. A smile graced his face as well when she saw Hermione looking at him, and there was not even the slightest hesitation as he turned his full attention toward her and started walking toward her direction, the fact that he was about to enter the base completely forgotten.

"Hey," Harry greeted her with a wide smile on his visage as she eliminated the last few centimeter distance between the two of them.

"Hey yourself," Hermione replied. There were a lot of questions in the head of Hermione at that moment, each mentally screaming for her attention as they attempted to be the first question that Hermione would ask, but ultimately, before she could ask anything, Harry stopped her by offering her his arm.

Hermione was only well too happy to accept the invitation, despite the fact that she has no idea what Harry wanted to do.

"I know that you have a lot of questions," Harry said as he led Hermione away from the entrance of the camp by the arm. They ended up at the shores of the Black Lake and for the first time that day, Hermione saw the hull of Imperial ships floating at the surface of the lake.

With a mental gasp, she realized just how deadly the situation last evening was. Those ships that are at the lake were not as big as the battleships that had delivered Lord Alexander to the castle during his visit, but Hermione could see the turrets and the guns housed on those turrets. She had no doubt that those things could be as deadly as the guns of the battleships of Lord Alexander, and last night, she was sure that the school was a the sights of those weapons.

Harry caught Hermione looking at the ships, and with a sigh, he made her turn her full attention toward him, "Those are the heavy cruisers of the 8th Heavy Cruiser Squadron," he said, "They arrived last night."

"Reinforcements just in case?" Hermione asked, and though she asked that question, it was actually a question that was never screaming for her attention, most likely because she already knew what the answer would be.

Of course, Hermione knew that had the Headmaster insisted on resisting the Holy Empire, those cruisers would be firing their main guns at the castle. Hermione could not be sure for how long the wards would have held up against the explosive shells of conventional artillery, but she was sure that those shells do not discriminate between combatants and non-combatants.

"It was more of a deterrent," Harry replied as he took a seat at the dry grass that colored the surface of the shore around the lake. Hermione followed suit a few moments later, and after she was seated, Harry continued, "We believe that it was precisely the presence of these cruisers that convinced Dumbledore of how insane standing up against us would be, either that, or he was convinced by his advisors, probably Professor Snape and Alastor Moody were the loudest."

Hermione could only nod despite the fact that a part of her wanted to be outraged with what had happened. The Grand Fleet had five heavy cruisers at the Black Lake, ready to fire their main guns at the castle despite the number of students inside should they be given the signal.

Yet, at the same time, Hermione knew that there was nothing that she could do about it, and losing her temper at Harry would not change anything.

"Hermione," the seriousness in the voice of Harry made Hermione forget the fact that she was about to lose her temper. She turned her attention toward him, the concern evident on her face, but before she could ask him what was wrong, Harry continued, "I would soon be returning to the mainland."

Hermione nodded. Of course she knew about that, he had told her about it back then, but to hear him say it again made her chest feel heavier than usual. She wanted to throw her arms around him at that moment, but Hermione still remembered where she was. In any case, she did not think that Harry would appreciate it at that moment, not when they are so near the camp.

"Come with me, Hermione," Harry suddenly said, "You spoke with my mother about Olympia right? It might not be anywhere near Maryland, but at least you'll be at the mainland and we can see each other more frequently."

Harry, of course, knew that he could not actually leave Maryland, hence, the reason why he was practically begging Hermione to be the one to abandon her school. It was not something that Harry wanted to ask, but at that moment, he could not even think properly.

Hermione just smiled at him, and there was a certain sadness with that smile that even Harry could see. He wanted to comfort her, but before he could say anything, she said, "I want to come with you, Harry," but before Harry could smile completely, Hermione added, "but I still have to wait till I could finish my end of year exams."

"Hermione…," Harry began.

Hermione forestalled him, "No, Harry," she insisted in the firmest voice that she could muster, "Hogwarts is under a new Headmistress, one who had just sworn an Oath to the Golden Throne, I am certain that no more untoward incidents would occur while she is Headmistress," there was a smile on the face of Hermione as she added, "In any case, I am one of the favored students of the new Headmistress."

"Our enemies hide behind shadows and the dark, Hermione, and they know this school quite well," Harry warned her.

Hermione still insisted, "Even so," she said as she shook her head.

Harry sighed a few moments later, a tacit acknowledgement of the fact that he knew that she could not change his mind. Instead, he turned his attention toward her, just as she turned her attention toward hi.

Again, no words were exchanged between the two of them, just the fact that a few moments later, their lips once more found the other as they shared another kiss.

**On the coast of the Jutland Peninsula**

**Scandinavian Confederation, Europe**

**October 26, 1995**

The fierce storm blowing from the north had made it impossible for the small party of about one hundred men and women who stood upon the hill overlooking the steel gray waters of the North Sea to discern the faint contours of the land where they came from.

Nevertheless, almost to a man they held their gaze westward, and their imagination was focused on the land that they just left behind in an effort to save themselves. Across the cold waters of the North Sea, the land of the British Isles beckoned to them despite the fact that it was not alive. The very magic that was infused upon the very soil of Britain called to them, but everyone one of them knew that they could not risk returning, not when they are sure that the Holy Empire had placed bounties on their heads.

Albus Dumbledore, the former Headmaster of Hogwarts and now one of the most wanted men in the whole of the Holy Empire, was not at the front of his delegation as he stared at the direction of his homeland. Beside him, his former potions master, Severus Snape, was probably one of the few from amongst those gathered that does not have his gaze pointed westward, for the eyes of Snape was pointed toward his Headmaster.

There was anxiety on the eyes of the sour-faced man, but there was also worry and no small amount of fear. It was not a look that was uncommon or rare at that point, for every single person that stood at that hill at that moment probably had a fraction of the same feeling reflected on their eyes, yes, even the famed Headmaster of Hogwarts.

"My friends," the voice of the Headmaster carried out along the Hill, as if it was carried by the very wind, and all attention was turned away from their home toward their leader, "We have been forced from our homes, but we will return one day," the Headmaster promised.

"Upon the very soil of this land where we now stand upon, upon the names of my ancestors, I promise you," Albus Dumbledore began, "We would return home, and when we do, all shall know that ours was the right path to take, that ours is the only path that could be taken in order to prevent the Dark from gaining control of this world."

The cheers that followed after the little speech of the Headmaster was not dampened by the fact that they had just been forced to run with their tails between their legs, but as Severus watched the Headmaster return his gaze westward, the potions master realized that perhaps that was the reason that the Headmaster had spoken, to ensure that the morale of his followers would not slump to the point that they would start to leave in droves.

As he stared at the Headmaster of Hogwarts, Severus was forced to wonder if, in reality, the Headmaster had already reached that slump in his own morale.


	14. Chapter XIV

**A/N: **I do not own Harry Potter or anything associated with it.

* * *

**FOURTEEN**

**(Headline of **_**The Britannian Imperial**__ – _**May 8, 1996)**

_**Increasing tensions in North Africa; Holy Empire of Britannia and Prussian Empire glaring daggers at each other**_

_**Alexandria, Egypt**__ – Elements of the Britannian 8__th__ Army – the principal Britannian unit in Egypt – went on high alert late last night following reports that an unidentified flying object was spotted above one of their forward bases. _

_Speaking on condition of anonymity because he had not been officially authorized to speak with the media, a Britannian major confirmed that the 23__rd__ Infantry Division and the 34__th__ Infantry Division of IX Corps went into 'the highest level of alert' after radar had spotted an object flying high above the border between the North African League and Egypt. There has been no confirmation that both divisions had been ordered to stand down as of the present time._

_This disturbance came just two weeks after a Britannian fishing vessel was sunk off the coast of North African League Tunisia after it was rammed by a North African League warship who allegedly mistook the fishing vessel as a warship. Four Britannian citizens were killed as a result of that incident and the Holy Empire is still demanding reparations from the North African League. The League, however, continue to refuse the demands of the Holy Empire._

_Tensions had always been high between the Holy Empire of Britannia and the North African League, but the recent ascension of North African League Army Chief of Staff Field Marshall Muamar Saif al-Hussein has served as a major catalyst in further heightening tensions. _

_The new leader of the North African League had repeatedly called for Egypt to be handed over to the North African League and for the Holy Empire to withdraw from the territory. In this endeavor, the leader of the North African League had found an unlikely ally in the Prussian Empire, specifically, the premier of the Reichstag, Adalbert Kohn._

"_The wish of the sovereign North African League is the wish of the world in this case," the Prussian premier was quoted as saying before when asked about the situation in North Africa, "Britannia must withdraw from Egypt and allow the people to rule themselves."_

"_It's easy for the Prussians to say that," Minister of Defense Kyle Procter said when confronted with the statements of the Prussian Premier, "After all, they are not the ones who would have to deal with the vacuum that would be surely created should we pull out of the area, perhaps they should look at the problem from a different perspective, and with different participants, how about the demands of the Scandinavian League that they pull out from Gotland, or even the request to demilitarize Riga?"_

_Egypt, being the location of the Suez Canal, is one of two highly strategic gateways of the Holy Empire, the other being Panama. The Suez Canal connects the Red Sea with the Mediterranean Sea and thus, serves as an important communications hub between the mainland Holy Empire and the Empire's territories in South Asia including the headquarters of the Colonial Fleet in Diego Garcia._

_Despite the advances in flight that had occurred over the past few decades, countries are still dependent upon regular ships unable to take flight to carry most of their seaborne trade. In the Holy Empire, aside from the one thousand plus warships of the Imperial Fleet, there are only three hundred large size civilian cargo ships that are capable of flight, and only because these ships are officially considered to be part of the Fleet Reserves. _

_Unfortunately, the Mediterranean is a major communications hub not only for the North African League but also for the Prussian Empire. Both nations would rather not see the entrances to the Mediterranean under the control of the Holy Empire, but both entrances to this body of water are actually flying the Britannian flag as the only other entrance aside from Suez would be Gibraltar, which is Britannian territory._

_This is not the first time that Prussia has advocated Britannian withdrawal from her territories near the Mediterranean. As late as last year, Prussia officially requested that the Holy Empire withdraw from Gibraltar and even went so far as to offer to be mediator between the Holy Empire and the Kingdom of Spain whom the Prussian Empire suggested should take possession of Gibraltar._

_During the height of that incident, both the 8__th__ Army and the North African League Armed Forces went into high alert as the possibility of clashes between the two escalated. The Imperial Naval Grand Fleet also sent two squadrons of armored cruisers to reinforce the defenses at Gibraltar at the height of the incident, with the commander of the Grand Fleet, Prince Alexander Charles York publically moving his flagship from his headquarters in Waldenstein Naval Yard, Scapa Flow to Bermuda, a symbolic sign that the Grand Fleet is moving closer to the anticipated theater of operations._

_The incident was defused only after the Britannian parliament voted to allow Lord Alexander to establish a quarantine zone against the Prussian Empire, with the authority to order Prussian ships sailing from the North Sea to return to Prussia or to be detained. In the wake of this vote, the Prussian Reichstag decided to formally withdraw its offer and their proposal died. _

_The recent incident would surely cast a dark shadow during the coming annual conferences of world leaders to be held the next month in Lima, Peru. Both the Prussian Premier and the Prime Minister of the Holy Empire of Britannia had publicly committed to attend the conference, but there is a precedent for both men should they decide to back out of this commitment. The leader of the North African League, Field Marshall al-Hussein – whose official title is Chairman of the Supreme League Council – had not been invited to attend owing to his less-than-stellar record as a leader, both before and during his tenure as the head of the North African League. _

_For the soldiers who make up the rank and file of the 8__th__ Army, however, the alert is just another constant part of their job as soldiers in the frontlines. They had learned to live through the constant wailing of sirens and orders for them to man their positions. There is, in fact, even a strong movement growing at the front amongst soldiers who just wish for war to start._

"_We would be done with this alert business then," a corporal from 'C' Company, 4__th__ Battalion, 'B' Brigade, 23__rd__ Infantry Division, had been quoted before._

_Whatever else may be the next step of the two countries, however, one thing is for sure, it would be unlikely to be of assistance in forging amity between the two nations._

**(Headline of **_**The Times**_** – August 27, 1997) **

'**I Do'; Lord Alexander Charles York marries long time sweetheart Lady Emma Charlotte Spencer**

_**Rochester, New York, Holy Empire of Britannia **__– It certainly was a day that would be remembered for years to come not only by the lucky citizens of the Empire who reside in Rochester but also by the whole of the Holy Empire and her territories abroad._

_In a move that stunned and surprised no one, Lord Alexander Charles York, Prince of Wales, Prince of Scotland, Duke of New York, General-Admiral of the Britannian Grand Fleet, first born grandson to Empress Elizabeth Annabelle York, and thirty seventh in line to the Golden Throne, married his long time sweetheart and partner, Lady Emma Charlotte Spencer._

_Lady Emma, Marchioness of Montana and daughter of the late Duke Eric Stephen Spencer and Duchess Mathilda Erika Spencer, had been the constant companion of Lord Alexander since they were five years old. Born just five days after her husband, Lady Emma suffered a personal tragedy when she was five when both of her parents were killed in a terrorist attack. Lady Emma miraculously survived this incident and was placed in the household of Lord Stephen York, father of Lord Alexander._

_From an early age, the two were inseparable, with both graduating from the George III Primary School before winning their appointments to Olympia Academy where Lady Emma graduated first in their batch and Lord Alexander was third. Subsequently, Lord Alexander entered the Imperial Naval Academy while Lady Emma entered the University of Maryland, a choice that she made, rumors claimed, because of the close proximity of the campus to the Imperial Naval Academy._

_In 1993, the Crystal Palace formally announced that Lord Alexander courted Lady Emma, and in 1994, their engagement was formally announced. Lord Alexander and Lady Emma caused many eyebrows to be raised at the Crystal Palace, however, when they moved in together. When Lord Alexander was named General-Admiral of the Grand Fleet in 1995, Lady Emma accompanied him to his new posting in the British Isles._

_There was no formal announcement of the wedding, but the citizens of Rochester knew that something was up when as early as two months ago. There were reports of Imperial Knights arriving and leaving at regular intervals. Although then unconfirmed, the Imperial Knights were there to make sure that security would be well prepared for the arrival of the guest of honor in the wedding._

_Her Majesty, Empress Elizabeth Annabelle York, Empress of the Holy Empire, blessed the union when she arrived at the ancestral chapel of the York family. Other important guests include the Prime Minister of the Holy Empire, Adrian Bean, his entire cabinet, members of the Armed Forces Staff including the Four Sea Lords, the Combined Chiefs of the Imperial Ground Forces, and the Marshall of the National Guard. _

_Lord Alexander was attended by members of his personal staff including his chief-of-staff, Vice Admiral Kevin Francis Cline, his chief military advisor, Rear Admiral Daniel William Ashford, his senior adjutant, Rear Admiral Richard Granger, and his personal representative, Lord James Charles Potter, Viscount of Lisbourne. _

_Lady Emma was attended by Lady Lily Marie Evans-Potter, Countess of Lisbourne, and Lisette Rainier, a personal friend from her days at Olympia Academy. _

_For the first time in nearly a year, the Prince of Scotland and Prince of Wales was free from having to worry about the increasing tensions in North Africa. Lord Alexander, as commander of the Grand Fleet, would be responsible for naval operations in the theater should hostilities erupt in the Mediterranean. _

_After the marriage ceremony, Lord Alexander and Lady Emma crossed a saber bridge held by no less than twenty four admirals from the Imperial Grand Fleet, all subordinates of Lord Alexander. At the end of the saber bridge, a contingent of Imperial Knights gave the newlyweds a twenty one gun salute while members of the National Guard helped them to an open-topped carriage that would deliver them to their reception at nearby Rochester Castle. Elements of the 2__nd__ Royal Household Cavalry Division from the Imperial Ground Forces rode escort for Lord Alexander and Lady Emma._

_At Rochester Castle, the newlyweds were greeted by an eighteen gun salute, but this time, the gunfire was considerably louder as the flagship of Lord Alexander – HMS Iron Duke – was the one doing the firing._

_Prior to the start of the reception, Lord Alexander carried his bride in the traditional style across the ancient drawbridge that spans the length of the moat surrounding the castle, a tradition that dates back to Emperor George II, when, as Crown Prince, he carried his wife, Princess Gwendoline, across the same bridge._

**(Headline of the **_**International News Daily**__**– **_**September 1, 1997)**

_**Archduke of England, named; British Unified Parliament affirms loyalty to Archduke of England**_

_**London, England, Holy Empire of Britannia – **__Fresh from his honeymoon after his marriage last August 26, 1997, Lord Alexander Charles York has been recalled to the Crystal Palace in order to receive another posting, that of Archduke of England._

_Created in 1902 after the reconquest of the British Isles, the position of Archduke of England is the title given to the highest ranking noble in the British Isles. Under him, the Archduke of England commands three vassals, the Prince of Wales, the Prince of Scotland, and the Prince of Ireland. The first two positions are currently merged in one man, Lord Alexander himself, while the last position currently stands at the empty. _

_Lord Alexander would only be the second person to hold the title of Archduke of England, after his ancestor, Grand Duke Joseph Herbert York. The then Archduke of England was assassinated in 1924 while attending a horse race in Lancashire, England. The case remains unsolved to this day. For various reasons, no other person had been named Archduke of England. _

_His appointment as Archduke makes Lord Alexander the first member of his generation of the Royal Family to attain the position of Archduke, something that was expected by most experts of the Royal Family given that he is the eldest male of his generation. This appointment also meant that Lord Alexander is the only member of the York Family to have the same rank as his father. Archduke Stephen York is still Archduke of Belleview, though sources close to the Crystal Palace indicate that he would soon be named Grand Duke of the Empire._

_Lord Alexander is also expected to inherit the title of Archduke of Belleview. If so, he may well become the first person in the Holy Empire to have two Archduke Titles. _

_In the meantime, at the Unified Parliament Building, Prime Minister James Frederick Monroe led his fellow Members of the Parliament in affirming their oath to the Golden Throne after the recent elections. The Rose Party of the Prime Minister had won sixty seven percent of all the seats in Parliament._

_Asked for his opinion on the appointment of Lord Alexander as the new Archduke of England, the Prime Minister – who rose to prominence and leadership of the Rose Party on the platform of increased autonomy for the British Isles – has this to say, "We welcome the appointment of Lord Alexander as Archduke of England, the Archduke had been a resident of the British Isles since his appointment as commander of the Grand Fleet and has always been ready to hear and discuss with the Unified Parliament."_

_As Archduke of England, any laws passed by the Unified Parliament would first have to be approved by Lord Alexander, but the Prime Minister of the British Isles has this to say on that matter, "Even when he was Prince of Scotland and Prince of Wales, Lord Alexander had always been the highest ranking noble in the British Isles, therefore, there would be no change for us in the usual law making process, all laws in the Unified Parliament, before becoming effective, has to be signed by Lord Alexander even before he became Archduke."_

_Across the British Isles, the news of the appointment of Lord Alexander was met with jubilation and celebration. The twenty seven year old High Admiral is widely regarded by the population of the British Isles as a fair, if somewhat serious, leader. Amongst his achievements as Prince of Wales and Prince of Scotland, Lord Alexander had ordered the reform of the justice system as well as the reinstatement of the death penalty for high crimes._

_Across the English Channel, however, the appointment of Lord Alexander is of great concern to the Prussian Reichstag. Premier Adalbert Kohn has this to say, "The appointment of an active military commander to a position of great authority within the civilian government is against the ideals of modern democracy."_

_When pointed out to the Prussian premier that the Reichstag also has several members who are active military commanders, the Prussian Premier refused to answer. _

_With this appointment, Lord Alexander is now officially, His Royal Grace, High Admiral, Lord Sir Alexander Charles York, Archduke of England, Prince of Wales, Prince of Scotland, Duke of York, Duke of New York, Duke of Montana, General-Admiral of the Britannian Grand Fleet, Commander of the Imperial Order of the Imperial Knights. His shortened title is His Royal Grace, High Admiral, Lord Sir Alexander Charles York, OIBE, Archduke of England._

_With this appointment, Lady Emma, Lord Alexander's wife, is now styled as Her Royal Grace, Lady Emma Charlotte York, Archduchess of England, Princess of Wales, Princess of Scotland, Duchess of York, Duchess of New York, Duchess of Montana. Her shortened title is Her Royal Grace, Lady Emma Charlotte York, Archduchess of England. _

**(Headline of **_**The Network **_**– February 17, 1998)**

_**Most Wanted; Number Four in Most Wanted List Spotted in Trondheim; Scandinavian Ambassador asked to explain.**_

_**New York City, New York **__– The number four man in the Most Wanted List of the Imperial Intelligence Bureau and the Imperial Investigative Division, Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, was spotted late last night by agents from the Imperial Intelligence Bureau at the city of Trondheim in the Scandinavian League._

_A former professor and Headmaster of a privately-owned school in Scotland, Dumbledore is believed to be responsible for leading a cult in Scotland that was devoted to devil worship. As part of this worship, Imperial Intelligence believes that Dumbledore and his followers intended to launch an armed rebellion against Britannian rule in the Scottish Highlands. It was based on this belief that the Imperial Investigative Division attempted to take him in for questioning in 1995, but Dumbledore and a handful of followers managed to escape and had since then evaded justice._

_There has been some speculation that had his planned rebellion taken place, Dumbledore would have used the students of his school – some of whom are very influential with connections with Britannian, Prussian, and other nobility – as hostages or as sacrifices. Officially, the Britannian government does not subscribe to the belief that Dumbledore and his followers practice human sacrifice, but students from the school do tell stories of ghosts that roam the halls every night. _

_The sighting of Dumbledore in Trondheim marks the first time that he was sighted since he and his followers disappeared from Scotland. As number four in the list of the Most Wanted of two agencies, Albus Dumbledore has the price tag of forty million Britannian Pounds on his head. Several of his followers are also in the Most Wanted List with prices ranging from twenty thousand pounds to twenty million pounds for two men believed to be the chief lieutenants of Dumbledore._

_Alastor Moody, a former police officer from the Scottish National Police, is believed to be the chief enforcer of Dumbledore and also the man who would have taken personal command of the guerillas that Dumbledore had organized for his revolution had the same revolution actually happened. He currently has a bounty of twenty million pounds on his head._

_Severus Snape is believed to be the chief advisor of Dumbledore and, according to some sources from within the two agencies that are now hunting for them, his secret lover. There are no available records that would help establish the background of Snape, but it is believed that he is considered – by himself and his colleagues – to be an expert in the brewing of natural healing liquids which – more than once – had been referred to by sources as 'potions'. He currently has a bounty of twenty million pounds on his head._

_In other news, the recent sighting of Dumbledore in Trondheim has prompted the Prime Minister to formally request the presence of the Scandinavian Ambassador Gustav Kristoff Reinfeldt. It should be noted that the Prime Minister had made a formal request rather than a summons, indicating that the Britannian Prime Minister is not going to take offense if the Scandinavian Ambassador had not arrived at his official residence._

_Nevertheless, the Scandinavian Ambassador arrived at Clancy House late last night to discuss with the Prime Minister. Exactly what was discussed between the two had not been revealed to the general public, but unofficial sources indicate that Ambassador Rinefeldt had promised that his government would cooperate with the Holy Empire of Britannia._

_Lord Alexander, Archduke of England, could not be reached for comment. Lord Alexander was Prince of Scotland when Dumbledore was ousted from the northern territory of the Holy Empire and was said to have actually personally conversed with the man before Dumbledore revealed his true colors. When Dumbledore and his followers had managed to escape, the then Prince was reported to have ordered his fleet out to sea in the hopes that they could intercept the party of Dumbledore. _

_At the headquarters of the Imperial Investigative Division, agents are said to be receiving briefing before being sent to Scandinavia in order to work side by side with their Scandinavian opposites. Whatever else may be the truth to this matter, one thing is for certain, right now, there is a wanted and dangerous man roaming the streets of Trondheim._

**(Headline of the **_**International News Daily**_** – July 4, 1998)**

_**Archduke of England names new representative; Duke of Oxford takes oath as member of the Parliament of the Unified Parliament of the British Isles.**_

_**London, England, Holy Empire of Britannia – **__Members of Parliament of the Unified Parliament of the British Isles today gave a standing ovation after one of their newest members had finished taking his oath before the flag of the Holy Empire._

_The standing ovation given to Lord James Charles Potter, thirty eight, was novel because Lord James was different from the other Members of Parliament in two respects. First, Lord James is the former Viscount of Lisbourne, a territory located within mainland Britannia, specifically, in the Duchy of New York, and second, Lord James was not voted into office as was required by the charter of the Unified Parliament._

_Instead, Lord James was appointed as a Member of Parliament by the man who is the nominal head of the British Isles, Archduke Lord Sir Alexander Charles York. _

_Lord James appointment to the Unified Parliament comes just days after his recent appointment and oath-taking as Duke of Oxford. He remains a direct subordinate of Lord Alexander as Archduke of England, just as Lord James had remained as a direct subordinate of Lord Alexander while he was still Viscount of Lisbourne and Lord Alexander is Duke of New York._

_Lord Alexander had made the appointment following recent increase in the activities of the North African League, the Prussian Empire, and the Scandinavian Union. The Archduke feared an escalation of the ongoing tensions between these nations and had foreseen that he would be busy with preparing the Grand Fleet for any eventuality. Unfortunately, this meant that the Archduke would no longer have enough time to be able to effectively function as the Head of the Unified Parliament, even if only traditionally._

_It must be remembered that as Archduke of England, Lord Alexander has veto powers over any law that the Unified Parliament can pass, and at the same time, every law that would be put into effect around the British Isles has to be approved by the Archduke._

"_His Royal Grace still sees the military as his profession," Speaker for the Unified Parliament Bella Winston was quoted as saying, "His duties and responsibilities as the highest ranking military commander in the British Isles would have to take precedence given the recent developing tensions in this part of the world, but His Royal Grace had indicated to the senior-most Members of the Parliament, including His Excellency, the Prime Minister, that he intends to return to his political post as soon as the tensions had defused enough."_

_Prior to his appointment, Lord James had served as the executive secretary of Lord Alexander and Lady Emma while doubling as the chief civilian advisor of Lord Alexander. In this position, Lord James had been exposed to the inner workings of the Unified Parliament so it is expected that he would not have much trouble with the transition process._

_Lord James Charles Potter was born in the British Isles in the year 1960 and is married to Lady Lily Marie Evans-Potter, Duchess of Oxford. The Duke and Duchess of Oxford have two children, Ensign Harry James Potter of the Imperial Navy and Rose Charlene Potter, who is currently following her mother's footsteps and finishing her degree in economics at the Harvard University. She plans to take up law studies after finishing her degree. _

**(Headline of **_**the Britannian Imperial**_** – May 17, 1999)**

_**Treaty of Manila signed; Tensions between the Celestial Empire and the Empire of the Rising Sun predicted to decrease; Britannian possessions in the Pacific seen to be secure.**_

_**Manila, the Philippines, Holy Empire of Britannia – **__Watched on by the representatives of the Holy Empire of Britannia and the world wide press, representatives from the Celestial Empire and the Empire of the Rising Sun yesterday signed a treaty in the capital of the Archduchy of the Philippines, the Holy Empire of Britannia._

_Dubbed as the Manila Treaty, this treaty seeks to curtail the growing tensions between the Celestial Empire and the Empire of the Rising Sun by imposing severe naval and army limits against both nations that are designed and calculated to reduce the enmity between the two rival powers._

_The Celestial Empire and the Empire of the Rising Sun had been on the opposing ends of a growing arms race in East Asia that had seen other nations increase their defenses as well for fears of being targeted by either nation. _

_With an army of over ten million men under arms, the Celestial Empire maintains a garrison of over three million men within forty eight hours of the Empire of the Rising Sun, while their fleet, although numerically and qualitatively inferior to those of the Empire of the Rising Sun, maintains first rate naval docks and repair facilities within twenty four hours of the Empire of the Rising Sun._

_Although smaller in size, the ground forces of the Empire of the Rising Sun are equipped with the latest weaponry that many say are almost equal to those used by the ground forces of the Holy Empire of Britannia. Having benefitted from the relatively brief eight year occupation of the Holy Empire following the end of the First Pacific War, the Empire of the Rising Sun maintains a naval fleet that operates ships that are heavily influenced in construction by Britannian warships. These operate from first rate naval docks and bases previously constructed and operated by the Britannian Fleet including Yokusuka Naval Base, the largest naval base in the Empire and the site of the former base of the Britannian Pacific Fleet, now long relocated to their shipyards in Subic Bay, the largest naval base in the Eastern Pacific. _

_The Holy Empire of Britannia had been forced to increase ground forces garrisons in the Philippines as well as in other nearby Pacific possessions, while the Union of Soviet Socialists Republics had been reported to have activated two new field armies in the last two months and based the same in their Far East Theater._

"_Today is the first step toward lasting peace and security in the Pacific," the special envoy of the Holy Empire of Britannia, Lady Lily Marie Evans-Potter, Duchess of Oxford, was quoted as saying before the gathered audience as she invited the representatives of both nations – Zhou Lee Han, Deputy Minister of Foreign Affairs, Celestial Empire and Takashi Natsuhiko, Special Under-secretary for Foreign Affairs in East Asia, Empire of the Rising Sun – to join her at the table where they would later sign the treaty._

_Although still not complete owing to the fact that both nations are required to ratify the treaty and exchange instruments of ratification at a later date, the Treaty of Manila is seen by many international affairs scholars to finally end the decades long saber-rattling across the Yellow Sea. This saber-rattling had caused many incidents and most scholars' estimate that the death toll of this 'cold war' between the two nations to be in the millions._

_Beginning with the First Pacific War in 1929, the Celestial Empire and the Empire of the Rising Sun had been locked in a silent staring contest across a narrow stretch of water. After the defeat of the Empire of the Rising Sun in the hands of the Holy Empire of Britannia in 1945, the Celestial Empire sought to establish themselves as the new dominant power in East Asia, but in this endeavor, they are not completely successful._

_Although most of her heavy industries were destroyed during the Pacific War, the Empire of the Rising Sun was quick to recover and was an even bigger economic power ten years later than she was in 1929. It was speculated that the fact that most of her heavy industries being destroyed – and her elite but old-fashioned leaders being killed – during the war actually helped the Empire of the Rising Sun in their quest to rebuild their economy rather than hinder it. Whatever else may be said, the fact that the Holy Empire occupied the Empire of the Rising Sun for a relatively brief period also helped them in their recovery. _

_The Summer Famines of 1948, 1949, 1952, 1957, and 1963 in the Celestial Empire where millions were estimated to have died is thought to be directly related to the cold war. The Celestial Empire had spent nearly seventy percent of their government spending during those years in arms, an obvious effort on their part to match the build-up of the Empire of the Rising Sun. Not even the economic alliance between the Celestial Empire and the Union of Soviets Socialists Republics could help in the economic growth of either nation. Instead, the alliance between the two was dissolved due to allegations by both sides as to the economic sabotage being perpetrated by either nation against them. _

_Across the Yellow Sea, the Nambu incident is also directly related to this cold war. The incident refers to the destruction of the Empire of the Rising Sun's new flagship at the eve of her maiden voyage when she broke into two while flying over the capital. Over twenty thousand were thought to have been killed and a large part of Tokyo including sections of the Chrysanthemum Palace, the residence of the Emperor of the Rising Sun, was destroyed._

_The deadline for the ratification of the treaty is set at the end of the next month. Already, Britannian Ground Forces High Command had announced the deactivation of two divisions in the Philippines and the transfer of two more. The Pacific Fleet has no comment on the signing of the treaty and has not made any announcements as to the withdrawal of either ships or marines from the foremost pacific possession of the Holy Empire. With its headquarters located at the Principality of Luzon, the Pacific Fleet withdrawing from the Philippines, either in part or totally, seems to be impossible._

**(Headline of **_**the Britannian Imperial**_** – June 17, 2000)**

_**North African League Parliament signs deal with the Prussian Empire to transfer four old armored cruisers, two hundred tanks, and millions of small arms.**_

_**Cairo, Egypt, the Holy Empire of Britannia **__– Yesterday, the parliament of the North African League signed a deal with representatives of the Prussian Empire. Central to this new deal would be the transfer of four old armored cruisers of the Prussian Empire to the North African League._

_Although older than the Britannian warships that it is likely to face in the event of a war between the Holy Empire and the North African League over the issue of Egypt, Malta, or Gibraltar, the four old armored cruisers that the Prussian Empire had sold to the North African League would be the most advance warships in the North African navy. _

_Sources are unsure as to which cruisers would be transferred to the North African League, but there is a high possibility that the four old cruisers would come from the retired Odin-class cruisers. Equipped with eight ten-inch cannons in four two-gun turrets and sixteen smaller three-inch guns in casemate mounts, these ships would, nevertheless, be able to provide critical naval fire support in case of a push by the North African League. _

_It is speculated that these ships would form part of a task group that the North African League Navy has been planning for many years now. A task group that would lead the ground forces of the North African League across the sands of Egypt and be able to threaten the Suez Canal._

_As part of the deal, the North African League Ground Forces are also slated to receive two hundred main battle tanks from the Prussian Ground Forces. Unlike the armored cruisers, the tanks had been identified to be of the old Puma-class tanks. Equipped with a one hundred five millimeter main cannon and two heavy machineguns, these tanks have a top speed of nearly fifty kilometers per hour and is equipped with third generation tank armor that is speculated to be able to stop a one hundred twenty millimeter round fired at one hundred yards._

_As with the old cruisers, it is speculated that these tanks would form part of the specialized task group that the North African League is known to be building. This would be the first time that such a large number of Prussian tanks would be shipped to the North African League and these tanks would be joining an additional one hundred fifty tanks that was previously shipped to the North African League including twenty more Puma tanks. _

_Most of the main battle tanks of the North African League, however, are either locally produced Chariot tanks equipped with the smaller ninety millimeter main gun, or the T-34 main battle tank acquired from the Union of Soviets Socialist Republics._

_Supplementing the newly delivered tanks would be an estimated seventy old artillery pieces from the Prussian Empire. As with the tanks, these self-propelled howitzers had been identified as Matador self-propelled howitzers. With their one hundred five millimeter main cannon, the Matador howitzers could hit targets in ranges exceeding twenty kilometers. _

_The North African League Ground Forces operates close to twenty Matador self-propelled howitzers before this deal. They are supplemented by towed and wheeled artillery. _

_In addition to the armored fighting vehicles, the deal also provides for the transfer of a million assorted small arms to the North African League. This would be in the form of assault rifles, light machineguns, pistols, and sub-machineguns for front-line use._

_Fleet Admiral James Monroe, First Sea Lord, however, was quick to downplay the threat of the arms shipment, "Most of these so-called 'new' equipments are actually very old," the commander of the Britannian Fleet said, "Even with these equipment, any invasion of Egypt by the North African League would be a colossal failure for them."_

_The admiral then went on to explain that while the Britannian Eight Army is not the best equipped unit in the Holy Empire of Britannia, the Eight Army is equipped with hardware that are considerably more advance than that of the North African League._

"_Their new Puma tanks would be facing Britannian Challenger tanks, their Matador self-propelled howitzers would be facing Britannian Crusader self-propelled howitzers," Fleet Admiral Monroe said._

_With their rifled one hundred twenty millimeter guns, the Challenger tanks would be able to defeat North African League armor at ranges exceeding one thousand five hundred meters, and be able to fire while on the move. There are currently two divisions of armor attached with the Eight Army. At the same time, Britannian Crusader self-propelled howitzers are at least two generations ahead of the Matador self-propelled howitzers._

_Defense analysts and commentators, however, are quick to be up in arms over the arms transfer. According to Nathan Grumble of the International Arms Network Coalition, the transfer of arms to the North African League would be seen as an escalation not only by the Empire, but also by other nations surrounding the North African League._

"_In fact," Grumble said, "The Holy Empire might not consider the transfer as that much of a threat to their security, but certainly, the other nations would," before adding that the Kingdom of Spain is actually preparing to send a formal protest to the Reichstag as soon as they could brief their ambassador._

_It should be noted that the Kingdom of Spain and the North African League do not have formal relations with each other since 1938. _

_At the North African League capital, North African Prime Minister Ali Zaad Baoukr welcomed the arms shipment and hailed the same as a sign of the growing partnership of the North African League and the Prussian Empire. The Prime Minister then invited other nations around the area of interest – most specifically, the Central African Union and the Middle Eastern Federation – to join in the growing international organization._

_When asked if the international organization that he is referring to would be meant as a counter-balance to Britannian control in the area, the Prime Minister had this to say, "Certainly, we do not want war with anyone, but I think that that would be one of the main purpose of any alliance should an alliance actually be born."_

_At the Reichstag, Premier Adalbert Kohn or any of his deputies are unavailable to comment._

**(Headline of the **_**International News Daily**__**– **_**April 15, 2001)**

_**Ministry of Defense Announces Plans to Reinforce Gibraltar; Egyptian Parliament Signs into Law Bill Approving Plans to Create Two New Divisions.**_

_**Pendragon, Holy Empire of Britannia – **__Ministry of Defense spokesman Peter Redding announced in a press conference yesterday a major policy shift that would be undertaken by the Ministry of Defense._

"_A newly formed corps composed of four divisions that would be taken from the East Coast Theater would be sent to Gibraltar in the coming days," Redding confirmed, "LXIII Corps would be placed under the direct command of the British Isles Theater commander."_

_The news of the formation of the new corps came as a surprise to many despite the indications coming from the Octagon of such a move as early as last year when Ground Forces commander-in-chief Field Marshall Felix Gort was sworn in as the new commander of the Ground Forces._

_The formation of the new corps and its sending to Gibraltar would most likely be opposed by both the Prussian Empire and the North African League, but the Kingdom of Spain is not expected to react despite the fact that the formation of such a formation would actually be a technical violation of the Treaty of Seville._

_Under the same treaty, the Holy Empire of Britannia promised the Kingdom of Spain that they would not place more than thirty thousand men-in-arms in Gibraltar. The formation of LXIII Corps and the fact that it would have four divisions in it would mean that least fifty thousand men would be transported to Gibraltar. _

_Redding, however, is confident that the Kingdom of Spain would not call the Holy Empire on that violation, "In fact," the Defense spokesman said, "It was the Kingdom of Spain who had requested for the reinforcement given the worsening tensions between the powers in the area."_

_Redding was referring to another series of verbal spats between the North African League and the Kingdom of Spain that started just over a month ago after a North African armored cruiser strayed into Spanish territory. The cruiser – one of the new ones that the League had purchased from the Prussian Empire – was chased away from the Kingdom of Spain without loss of life or damage by responding heavy cruisers of the Kingdom of Spain._

_Neither the Ministry of Defense nor the Octagon is ready to release the identification of the units that would be included in the new corps, but unofficial sources from within the Ministry of Defense had provided for three names. These names are purported to be the most likely candidates to command the new corps. The names are those of Lieutenant General Winston Arnott, Lieutenant General Albert Brooke, and Lieutenant General Norbert Timothy Merville._

_Lieutenant General Arnott was the commander of the 22__nd__ Infantry Division before he was promoted to Lieutenant General just last month. He is suspected to be the frontrunner for the position given his closeness to Lord Alexander Charles York who has nominal command of the British Isles Theater of Operations._

_Lieutenant General Albert Brooke was the commander of the 18__th__ Armored Division and is currently assigned to the Octagon as Deputy Chief of Staff for Operations for the Britannian Ground Forces._

_Lieutenant General Norbert Timothy Merville was the Deputy Operations Commander of the Fifth Army before he was promoted to Lieutenant General last month. Sources from within the Octagon consider his appointment to be a long shot, but his impressive credentials could lead to his appointment to the position._

_In related news, the Egyptian Parliament had recently approved a Bill calling for the upgrade of two of their militia divisions into full fledged infantry divisions. Parliament Bill Number 01-22415, authored by local politician Omar Hussein Al-Hafani, called for two militia divisions to be chosen by the commander of the Britannian Ground Forces in the area._

_The upgrade of the two divisions is expected to take at least six months. Such a time would be used by the divisions to familiarize themselves with new weapons, particularly heavier and more mobile artillery pieces that are only available to regular infantry divisions. _

_Commenting on the matter, Redding said, "Ultimately, this would depend on the decision of the Commander-in-Chief, Ground Forces, and His Imperial Majesty."_

_Other commentators, on the other hand, are predicting that such an option may never be exercised. Felix Maxwell, Chairman of the International Institute for Coalition Studies, a non-profit organization, has this to say, "Should the go-signal be given to upgrade these two divisions into standard infantry divisions, this would mark the first time that the Holy Empire would be allowing purely 'local' forces into the military structure. It is not just a question of equipment, salaries, and recognition; there are also other political considerations that must be taken into account."_

_The final word on whether or not the option to upgrade the two divisions would be exercised is not expected until the end of the second quarter of next year, and that is assuming that the proposed measure would be properly endorsed by the Imperial Parliament._

**(Headline of **_**the Britannian Imperial**_** – September 16, 2003)**

_**Prussian Premier walks out of scheduled conference; Adalbert Kohn, Prussian Premier, walked out of the Ankara Conference as protest for the continued reinforcement of Gibraltar.**_

_**Ankara, Turkey **__– Despite negotiations for the conference having taken more than two years to complete, the Prussian Premier, Adalbert Kohn, yesterday walked out of the Ankara Conference. The premier of the Prussian Empire – who has held the position effectively over the past eight years – had announced that he and his entourage walked out of the meeting at the famed Red Palace located in Ankara, Turkey as protest to the continuing Britannian reinforcement of Gibraltar._

_It should be recalled that during the height of the crisis, Britannia had formed a new corps and moved the same to Gibraltar. _

_The Ankara Conference was a result of fierce rounds of negotiations between the major and minor powers in an attempt to get the representatives of all nations in one setting so that they may discuss important national matters. The Ankara Conference would only be the fifth such time that leaders would meet in such a setting, the first one being the Jakarta Conference in 1986 and the last one before the Ankara Conference is the Helsinki Conference in 1998. A conference that was scheduled to be held in Peru between world leaders was cancelled when both the Holy Empire and the Prussian Empire formally withdrew their commitment to attend._

_Central in the discussions that were supposed to be held in Ankara are the growing tensions between the Holy Empire and the North African League and the growing tensions between the Kingdom of Spain and the Prussian Empire. The North African League is an ally of the Prussian Empire while the Kingdom of Spain is a de-facto ally of the Holy Empire despite the lack of a formal treaty that binds the two nations. _

"_The continued arrival of Britannian ground and air forces in Gibraltar is a violation of the Treaty of Seville," Adalabert Kohn was quoted by local media before he was ushered by his bodyguards into a waiting security vehicle that reportedly took him back to his hotel. There has been no confirmation from the same hotel that the Prussian delegation had checked out, but the Prussian official spokesperson had been quoted by local media to have already announced their plans to return to Prussia as soon as possible._

_There are no indications as to what was preventing the Prussian premier and his party from leaving Ankara, but there has been speculations that the premier or his advisors feared confronting the Britannian naval presence in the area, an allegation that was quickly countered by the military attaché of Prime Minister Adrian Bean who had this to say, "The Prussian contingent included four of their newest battleships and an escort force of no less than eight heavy and twelve light cruisers, in addition to the fact that the main body of their Mediterranean Fleet, more than twenty first and second rate battleships, are within distance of the Turkish coast. We have two armored cruisers and four heavy cruisers plus six destroyers, we could not stop them even if we wanted to."_

_Whatever else may be the real reason behind the hesitation of the Prussian party to leave Ankara, there had been many voices of criticism directed at the Prussian Premier after the sudden move. Representatives of the Scandinavian Union and the North African League had been reported to have called the move as 'bone-headed and immature,' while the representative of the Kingdom of Spain labeled it as 'an attempt by Prussia to garner world sympathy at their side when it is clear that they are the ones who are at the wrong.'_

"_Well, attendance in this event is not mandatory," Prime Minister Adrian Bean said, "Premier Adalbert Kohn and his party can leave anytime that they wish," before he added that since the Prussian Empire was not party to the Treaty of Seville, they had no standing to call on the Holy Empire as being violators to that treaty._

_With the absence of the Premier of Prussia, the question of what to do in Ankara has been brought up by a number of the national leaders that are still at the city. There had been talks of leaving the city to return to their countries, but Prime Minister Adrian Bean said that even if Prussia would not be represented at the conference, it does not mean that no business could be completed by those who are left. _

"_After all, Prussia is just one country," the Prime Minister said. The representatives of the Celestial Empire and the Empire of the Rising Sun have echoed the calls of Prime Minister Bean, while the representative of the North African League is leading calls for the meetings to be postponed and for a new venue to be chosen._

_It is the first time that the Celestial Empire and the Empire of the Rising Sun have appeared on the same side of an argument since they broke off formal relations nearly eighty years ago._

**White Swan Restaurant, New York City**

**Duchy of New York, Mainland Britannia, Holy Empire of Britannia**

**March 17, 2005**

Sub-lieutenant Harry James Potter could not help but smile in reaction to the story that the young woman beside him had just finished narrating. For a few moments, he just smiled, but then he turned his attention toward the young woman in question at the exact same moment that she turned her attention toward him.

Intelligent brown eyes met with jade green and for a few moments, Harry and Hermione just stared at each other. The fact that they were staring at each other was not helped by the fact that the people around them did nothing but stare at the obvious affection that the two of them felt for each other.

Ten years had passed since that fateful meeting in front of an old castle in the middle of nowhere in the hills of Scotland, and in the ten years since then, the relationship of Harry and Hermione had not stayed stagnant, instead, their relationship had grown to the point that they are now ready to marry each other.

That was actually the reason that the two of them are here, together with their families. At that point, Harry finally broke eye contact with Hermione, although it was obvious that he found that hard. He reluctantly turned his attention to the people that were with them, and he could not help but grimace uncomfortably when he saw that they were all staring at him with varying degrees of amusement on their faces.

Harry pointedly cleared his throat at that moment, though that was more to remind everyone at the table to stop staring at him than it was to actually clear his throat. The amused smile on the faces of the people around the table did not really die down, at least, not completely, though Harry saw that his sister actually managed to frown at his actions.

Rose was born four years after Harry, and unlike her older brother, she was born in mainland Britannia. Like her brother, however, Rose had jade green eyes and jet black hair, though hers was unlike the unkempt hair of her brother. Rose kept her hair long and arranged it with a single braid that fell down to the small of her back. Still two years shy of finishing law school, she is, nevertheless, already receiving job offers from many firms across the country, though Rose acknowledged that that may have something to do with the political situation of her family.

Rose, however, had made it clear that she would be following her mother's footsteps before she would accept the standing offer of Lady Emma to join her diplomatic team.

"Would you please stop it?" Harry asked his father politely. Lord James had kept staring at his son despite having been asked, and his only reaction was to broaden his smile, causing Harry to avert his attention from his father.

The young Potter heir was resplendent in his uniform despite the fact that it was mostly empty. Aside from the surface warfare office badge on his uniform, he wore no decoration or awards on his uniform, unlike the other person who is in uniform and was seated at the table.

That prompted Harry to turn his attention toward that direction. Commodore Daniel Philip Granger, the father of Hermione, was also in naval uniform. He also was wearing the ribbon for the Distinguished Service Cross that he earned while he was in active duty. The man refused – good-naturedly, perhaps, but still refused to – to talk about the action that won him that award and Harry suspected – perhaps rightly so – that the only other person who knew about it is the woman who was seated beside him, Emma Elizabeth Granger, the mother of Hermione.

"Sir," Harry began. He had intended to engage the only male Granger in conversation about something, possibly the fact that the older man had recently been appointed commander of the Special Warfare School at LaGuardia Air Base, but at that moment, the mobile phone of the commodore began to ring.

Commodore Granger would have ignored the call, but the next moment, it was the mobile phone of Lord James who was ringing. The two men looked at each other with a smile, before they both shook their heads, an indication that they are going to ignore the call because this get together by the two families are important.

This is, after all, the first of many formal and informal talks regarding the marriage of Harry and Hermione. Although the two of them loved each other far more than words could express, the two families are also members – albeit minor, and by appointment rather than by birth – of the nobility. A marriage between two scions would be a political alliance, one that has to go through the formalities. The fact that both families are in service with Lord Alexander made things a bit more uncomplicated, yes, but they must still go through the process even if it was, in the opinion of both Lord James and Commodore Granger, not needed.

Suddenly, the interior of the restaurant erupted into a cacophony of sounds as more than two dozen other mobile phones began to bleat for the attention of their owners. Harry and Hermione managed to take stock and both of them independently noted that most of the phones ringing are coming from men who are in uniform, and that meant one thing.

There was a look of horror on the face of Hermione as she turned her attention toward Harry. He was quick on the uptake, and he was about to reassure her that he would be fine – after all, _his _mobile phone was not ringing – when all of a sudden, his phone added to the bleating.

Forced to acknowledge that there is something going on, Lord James was the first to answer his phone, followed by Commodore Granger.

Harry was not going to listen to their conversation with the person on the other end, not when he had his own conversation to go through.

"Ensign Potter, this is Norfolk Naval Command Headquarters," the person on the other end did not even bother with the pleasantries, he introduced himself as soon as Harry answered the call. In his defense, Harry knew that the operator had perhaps more than a hundred other phone calls to make, "We have a situation, you are being ordered to report to Fort MacPherson, New York, as soon as possible."

'_Fort MacPherson,' _Harry thought, '_the headquarters of Archduke Stephen_.' The Archduke of Belleview and Lord Alexander's father is also the nominal commander of the East Coast Defense Force.

"We have established hourly trips from Central Park to the base, Ensign," the voice on the other end continued, "Report as soon as possible, that is all," and before Harry could say anything, the call was terminated.

For a few moments, he was stunned, but when he turned his attention toward Commodore Granger, there was a steel look on the eyes of the man, clearly, he had received more information than Harry.

"Report to Fort MacPherson, sir," Harry replied, answering the unasked question on the face of the man that he hoped for as his father-in-law.

Commodore Granger nodded, "We best get going, Ensign," the fact that the commodore used his rank rather than his name was telling to Harry, "We both have a long way to go."

Harry nodded, before he turned his attention toward Hermione. The horrified and anguished look on the face of Hermione was not something that Harry liked to see, but at that moment, there was nothing that he could do that would assure her that he would be fine.


	15. Chapter XV

**A/N: **I do not own Harry Potter or anything associated with it.

* * *

**FIFTEEN**

**Fort MacPherson, Rochester, New York**

**Holy Empire of Britannia**

**March 17, 2005**

The traffic jam that formed outside the main gate of the camp should have been the first indication to Harry that something big was going on.

Located just thirty miles north of New York City, Fort MacPherson is a relatively small military base with an area of just twenty square kilometers. Nevertheless, it is the principal military base that is charged with protecting the city of New York in the improbable case that the Holy Empire would be forced to defend itself on its home territory. It is also the location of the headquarters of Archduke Stephen York, the man who was in charge of the defenses of the Holy Empire in the east coast.

Despite that, under normal conditions, the base would not have been as busy as it was when Harry and Commodore Granger entered the camp. Aside from regularly scheduled military exercises and the occasional inspections conducted by the top brass, the base was almost always deserted, with Archduke Stephen commanding the defenses of the east coast from a provisional headquarters located in Rochester, inside his castle. This is because the east coast defense forces was not supposed to be that large or even that active, considering that there is almost no chance for any invader to be able to breach the defenses of the Holy Empire to the point that the home guard units had to be activated.

That was clearly not the case when Harry entered the base. Machinegun posts and heavily armed sentries had been posted in and around the base, with at least two three vehicle patrols constantly roving around the perimeter of the base. Harry had also espied an old sloop over the base, proving air security.

The destination of Harry was the base administrative headquarters, located near the entrance of the facility. It was here where Commodore Granger and he parted from each other. The older man had just parked his car at the officers club before he had to rush off to a recently set-up transportation hub. Where Commodore Granger was heading, Harry does not know, but Harry imagined that it would be somewhere far, perhaps even out of the duchy.

As Harry approached the administrative building of the camp, he turned his attention toward his right hand side and noted that the traffic jam that he and his hoped-for father-in-law had endured the moment that they arrived at the base was still there. Harry could also see trucks and military busses leaving the base, full of uniformed personnel and, sometimes, supplies.

He returned his attention toward the direction of the administrative building. There was a parking area in front of the building and Harry knew from having been here before that that parking area is rarely, if ever, filled to the brim. That was not the case as the young ensign turned his attention toward the parking. It was filled with cars, most of which bear civilian plates revealing the fact that most of the officers that had been gathered were not on active duty when they were ordered to report. That spoke of the urgency of the recall and not for the first time since he had arrived at the base, Harry wondered what was going on.

'_Whatever it is,'_ Harry thought as he crossed the final street that separated him from the administration building, '_it is big.'_

At that moment, Harry paused as a long black vehicle suddenly entered the driveway in front of the main doors of the building. He had to admit that it was mere curiosity that made him pause, but he did wonder, when he saw the person who was inside the limousine, if he had sensed the need to pause.

Lord Alexander was the first person off of the rear of the car, and the Archduke of England did not even bother with the pleasantries. Harry was not able to see the look on the face of his liege lord – because Lord Alexander had his face toward the entrance of the building and not toward the direction where Harry was coming from – but Harry had no trouble imagining that there must be a look of determination on the face of Lord Alexander.

Admiral Cline and Vice Admiral Ashford were quick to exit the vehicle after the man that they serve, but unlike Lord Alexander, both men are in military uniform. Harry imagined that Lord Alexander was in civilian clothes because the Archduke was supposed to be in vacation at his ancestral home, his first in nearly two years, according to Lady Emma.

"I wonder what he is doing here," a voice behind him made Harry turned his attention toward that direction as soon as he could.

Ensign Edward Brooke flashed his old classmate and buddy a smile as the eyes of Harry landed upon his own before he raised his hand toward Harry and said, "Hey."

"Hey yourself," Harry replied at the same time that he extended his right hand to his friend. Ensign Brooke accepted the offer and the two men shook hands. Although they had been classmates and buddies when they were in the naval academy and despite the fact that both of them entered Imperial Knight School as soon as they graduated from the Academy, the career paths of the two had forced them upon separate paths.

Both Harry and Edward are qualified to wear the golden lightning bolt insignia of the naval special forces on their uniforms, but because their special forces training was conducted by the Imperial Knights – which, technically, could only have thirty thousand members, and all slots are currently filled – the two men are not allowed to wear the insignia. Instead, they are forced to wear their warfare specialty insignia on their uniform.

It was here where the separate career paths of both Harry and Edward differed. The surface warfare officer insignia on the uniform of Harry denotes his specialty as a surface warfare officer. Having dreams of commanding his own ship – perhaps, even his own battleship and, from there, his own squadron, and, eventually his own fleet – Harry had chosen to enter surface warfare specialty school right after his training with the Imperial Knights.

By contrast, Edward wore the wings of a naval aviator on his uniform, reflecting his decision to enter flight school right after his training with the Imperial Knights. Last Harry had heard, his classmate was assigned to a shore-based naval fighter squadron, though there are rumors that he would soon be promoted and posted aboard an aircraft carrier of one of the four fleets.

"They asked for you too, huh," Edward said before he motioned for Harry to take the lead.

Harry easily complied, "Whatever this is, it's big," he replied. For a few moments, the two men did not say anything. They crossed the threshold into the interior of the administrative building. Neither was surprised when the interior of the building was full of people, and only a few of them were actually at the hall just because they want to be as most of those inside the building are running to and fro.

"It's big alright," Edward suddenly whispered toward the direction of Harry. Harry, however, did not deign to reply to the words of his former classmate; instead, he focused his attention forward. Ensign Brooke nearly lost his balance as he involuntarily stepped backward at the sight of one of the most powerful men in the Holy Empire standing in front of them.

There was a neutral look on the face of Lord Alexander, but it was clear that the man was staring at them. Behind him, his two closest advisors also kept a neutral face, but then again, Admiral Cline and Vice Admiral Ashford are probably used to keeping a neutral façade whenever they are in public and in the company of their superior.

"I was not expecting the two of you here," Lord Alexander said as he turned his gaze away from Harry and toward Edward. Before either man could say anything, the Archduke suddenly added, "But in a way this is a good thing," he nodded, though that was mostly for his own benefit before he added, "This does solve a problem that we have been forced to confront with."

"Sir," Vice Admiral Ashford suddenly interjected. It was clear that the chief military advisor of Lord Alexander was about to comment on what his superior had just said, but a single motion from Lord Alexander – the universal stop motion – made the Vice Admiral bite back whatever it was that he wanted to say.

Turning his attention toward his chief military advisor, Lord Alexander said, "I am sure that both Ensign Potter and Ensign Brooke are more than capable of the mission that we have been talking about, Ash," he returned his attention toward the two junior officers in front of him and added, "And if you have any objection given their low rank, I think that with the outbreak of this incident, we can ignore the stipulations of the Treaty of Lima, at least, until we can get the principal parties back there, or some other city, and we can decide what the hell we are going to do next."

Harry used his peripheral vision to look at the expression on the face of his old classmate. He knew that the sparkle on the eyes of Edward appeared there when Lord Alexander made mention of the Treaty of Lima and the fact that the Archduke believes that the treaty is about to be subrogated.

The Treaty was one of the not so few attempts by world powers to maintain the status quo and to maintain the uneasy peace that had descended between the nations. Under one of the many provisions of the treaty, the armed forces of the major powers have been limited. The Holy Empire of Britannia, being one of the signatories, was forced to curtail the growth of her officer corps by the time that the treaty was signed seven years ago. It was one of the main reasons why Harry and Edward are both still junior officers despite having been in active duty for nearly five years now.

As exciting as a possible promotion is, however, that was not one of the main reasons why, at that moment, Harry was intrigued. Lord Alexander had made mention of an incident, and every bone in the body of Harry told him that this is the incident that had summoned him and Edward at this base. Harry knew that the incident, whatever it was, was big, but now he had to revise his earlier assessment of the incident, because if Lord Alexander is here, then it means that the incident is bigger than Harry had initially thought.

After all, Lord Alexander is the commander of the Imperial Grand Fleet. One does not call one of the four General-Admirals – even if said General-Admiral is on vacation – for a small incident. The fact that it is Lord Alexander who was here – rather than High Admiral Hughes General-Admiral of the Home Fleet –told Harry that the incident had something to do with the overseas possessions of the Holy Empire, specifically, in the Atlantic and Mediterranean.

The eyes of Harry widened as his thoughts passed through his mind. There is only one thing that he could think of that would explain the summoning of officers, cancelling vacation passes, the unusual and heavy security in the military camps, and the arrival of Lord Alexander despite his territorial military jurisdiction.

At that moment, Harry wanted to move, to do something. He wanted to wipe the non-existent sweat on his brows, or even just to roll on the balls of his feet, but he knew that he could not do that, not when he was supposed to be standing at attention.

Still, it was a response that was probably more than warranted. Harry knew that the only reason that all of the above things that he had to consider had happened is because the Holy Empire is about to enter a stage that Harry honestly prayed that he would never have to see.

Harry was sure of it; the Holy Empire is at war.

**Rochester Castle, Rochester, Duchy of New York**

**Britannian mainland, Holy Empire of Britannia**

**March 17, 2005**

The first thing that Lord James noticed as his car pulled into the relatively narrow but long straight road that he knew leads to the driveway of Rochester Castle was the beefed-up security. Certainly, security was not lax in Rochester Castle. The home of two Archdukes – at least, officially – and the provisional headquarters of the East Coast Defense Forces was located inside the seventeen hectare castle estate.

Usually, though, the security would be in the form of unarmed men wearing ceremonial uniforms from the castle guard, and they would be located on the castle itself. The driveway that leads to the castle that Lord James and Lady Lily are right now was still a good one and a half kilometer from first line of defense of the castle, the moat.

The guards are also not wearing the scarlet ceremonial uniforms of the Grenadier Guards, the bodyguard unit of the Royal Family, rather, they are wearing the battle dress of the Ground Forces of the Holy Empire, and from what both Lord James and Lady Lily could see, the guards are not only armed with standard issue assault rifles from the Ground Forces, they have also been deployed with their armored vehicles.

There are also a lot of them. Still, both Lord James and Lady Lily attributed the sudden show of force with whatever it was that was going on. the remainder of the ride to the castle was done in silence as the two elder Potter's considered the likely scenarios that had caused for most of the military officers of the Holy Empire and for some of the closest advisers of some nobles to be suddenly called in from their vacation. Unfortunately, both could only come up with one plausible scenario, and though neither Lord James nor Lady Lily had communicated to the other what scenario they had came up with, both knew that this is the dreaded scenario.

War. The last proper war that the Holy Empire had taken part in happened just a little over fifteen years ago. The Persian Gulf War, however, was a relatively minor affair, a war that lasted for only six months before the would-be dictator of the Middle Eastern Federation was defeated by an allied force nominally led by the Holy Empire. It was the war where Lord Alexander – then only twenty years old – had proven his mettle and earned his promotion to a flag rank officer.

Since then, there had been an era of relative peace. There had been some minor disturbances around the world, but for the most part, the Holy Empire had been able to steer clear of such troubles. It would appear now, however, that that era is about to end.

Both Lord James and Lady Lily headed to the Office of the Home Secretary the moment that their own mobile phones rang. Their callers summoned them to Rochester Castle and informed them that the Office of the Home Secretary had been ordered to provide a car for them. Neither Lord James nor Lady Lily asked for the reason why they were being called – nor did they ask the reason why they were both called, instead of just one of them, but the answer for that would be obvious anyway – as they both assumed that the reason for the unusual method of calling for them would be explained when they get to the castle.

The lights of Rochester Castle tore both Lord James and Lady Lily out of the reverie where they had both descended into. The four wheels of the limousine that Lord James had appropriated from the Office of the Home Secretary at New York City vibrated slightly as the paved road ended, marking the beginning of the cobblestone road that leads to the castle. The car crossed a stone bridge, but it was forced to stop before a massive metal gate that reminded both Lord James and Lady Lily of a cheese grater.

'_The portcullis?_' Lady Lily thought, '_they are actually using it?'_

An armed security officer waved the car through a few moments later, but not before other guards checked the vehicle. The first thing that the two Potter's noticed was the collection of small armored vehicles that was marshalling at the courtyard of the castle. it was not the first time that they had seen armored vehicles in the courtyard of the castle, but this was the first time that they had seen so many, and all of them appear to have their engines at idle as a man that they identified as the garrison commander for the castle barked instructions to his junior officers just a few feet away from where the vehicles are assembling.

The car stopped at the driveway to the main building of the castle, and both Lord James and Lady Lily were easily off of the vehicle at the first possible moment. Having been summoned, both knew that they could not afford to waste time, hence the reason for the haste. Fortunately for them, they were able to find the person who had asked for them barely five minutes after they had entered the main building.

It was surprising for Lady Emma to be unaccompanied by Lord Alexander, but for this occasion, it would seem that she has the company of Lady Claire, her lady-in-waiting. An old friend of Lady Emma, Lady Claire was chosen for the position because she was the only one that Lady Emma would choose. The wife of Lord Alexander was forced to find a lady-in-waiting after she was married, though it was clear that the Archduchess would rather not follow the tradition that most female members of the Royal Family was required to follow.

"My Lady," Lord James began as soon as he saw her. The words out of his mouth made his wife turn her attention toward the direction where her husband was looking. Upon seeing Lady Emma, Lady Lily bowed toward the wife of their liege lord.

"My Lord," Lady Emma began, and though from experience, both Lord James and Lady Lily are sure that a smile would follow after that greeting, this time there was none as Lady Emma turned her attention toward Lady Lily, "My Lady."

Sensing that something was wrong, Lady Lily broke protocols. Alone, perhaps, from the members of the Royal Family, Lady Emma was the only one who would permit the breach of protocol, though given the current situation – not that Lord James nor Lady Lily are aware of the current situation – the breaking of protocol was probably something that would not be taken as an insult by any member of the Royal Family.

"My Lady, is something wrong?" Lady Lily asked at the same time that she realized that that was a superfluous question. It was obvious that something was wrong.

Lady Emma nodded, "Something is very wrong," she admitted, she motioned for the two Potters to follow her as she made her way to the first floor library, located just a few meters away from where they were at that moment.

As they were walking, Lady Emma continued, "Reports from the Headquarters of the Eight Army reports that frontline divisions have taken fire from across the border, heavy artillery fire," she said, she paused before she turned to look directly at the two closest civilian advisors of her husband and added, "Just a few moments before he left, Alex informed me that he had received reports from General Tovey that his corps commanders are reporting a massive surge of North African League units across the border."

Lord James and Lady Lily looked at each other. It would appear that their musings while they were on their way to the castle were right on. The Holy Empire is heading to war.

"I asked for you here in order to discuss certain measures that we may have to impose in the British Isles," Lady Emma continued at the same time that Lady Claire opened the double doors to the library. The Archduchess and her companions stepped through the door and found themselves in the midst of one of the largest private collections of books in the east coast of the Holy Empire, "My Lord Alexander is worried, perhaps understandably so, that certain rebellious elements within the British Isles would take advantage of the fact of the absence of a large number of our forces from the British Isles to break into open rebellion."

'_Understandable, given the circumstances,'_ Lady Lily thought, '_they still haven't found Dumbledore, and there have been reports of increasing tensions within the magical British Isles.'_

**Fort MacPherson, Rochester, New York**

**Holy Empire of Britannia**

**March 17, 2005**

There must have been close to five hundred officers inside the make-shift – really, it was a gymnasium, but it was the biggest place that the clerks could find and could serve the purpose – briefing room, and all five hundred of them stood as one the moment that Lord Alexander entered the gymnasium.

The fact that Lord Alexander was now wearing the double breasted navy blue uniform of the Imperial Navy – and most of the officers gathered are wearing the single breasted dark brown uniform of the Imperial Ground Forces or the Type A Combat Dress Uniform of the same service – was ignored. The reason that they stood up was not because Lord Alexander was a naval officer, it was because he had two diamonds on both of his shoulders. That and the fact that he is a high ranking officer and member of the Royal Family, actually.

Together with the other five hundred officers who were assembled inside the gymnasium, Harry stood the moment that Lord Alexander entered the room. Harry was one of the minority, probably thirty or so officers from the Imperial Navy, not counting the staff of Lord Alexander, who was gathered inside the room.

"At ease and take your seats," Lord Alexander ordered the moment that he reached the podium where a make-shift sound system had been set-up. He waited until his order was followed before he continued, "I am sure that you are all wondering why you have been called here, some of you having to be disturbed from your vacations and leaves, believe me, I was one of those whose vacation has to be disturbed."

"There is a reason, though," Lord Alexander continued, "And that reason is this," he paused and breathed in as if he was consolidating his strength for the announcement that he was about to give, "We have received reports from the Eight Army Headquarters of General Neville Tovey that his units at the frontline, specifically, the 14th Infantry Division, had been fired upon by the North African League using heavy artillery and long-range rockets, no word on casualties yet, but they are expected to be heavy."

"Gentlemen, we have confirmed this reports," Lord Alexander continued, "What we have not confirmed are follow-up reports from the 49th Home Guard Division alleging movement by North African League units across the border, though at this point in time, whether or not the reports are true is of no more relevance," he shook his head for emphasis before he added, "What matters, gentlemen, is that as of this moment, the Holy Empire is at war with the North African League."

Lord Alexander allowed the shocked murmurings by the troops assembled in front of him to continue for a few moments, though he was quick to restore order after he had judged that he had allowed it to go on long enough, "Gentlemen," he said, a little more forcefully than usual, but it did achieve the desired results, "You have been asked here because you all would play a significant part in our coming counter-offensive, though those roles that you are going to play would be given to you in further briefings to be conducted by your immediate superiors, immediate superiors that report directly to me."

Harry blinked at that. The fact that Lord Alexander was here was a dead giveaway that the Archduke would be in command, but Harry did not expect a naval officer like Lord Alexander to be given direct command over the Theater. Harry had expected another officer, perhaps one from the Ground Forces, to be given command of that Theater, but the more that Harry thought about it, the more that it made sense. After all, Lord Alexander is a member of the Royal Family.

"It is an unusual situation, to be sure," the Archduke of England admitted a few moments later, after the silent murmurings have died down. Harry noted the sour look on the face of Admiral Cline in response to the murmurings, but the chief of staff of Lord Alexander had decided not to say anything.

"Nevertheless, I have been given command of the Mediterranean Theater up to and until Her Imperial Majesty had decided that someone else would be up to the task," Lord Alexander continued. After a few moments, the Archduke actually smiled after he realized that he had made a mistake. Almost at the same time as that smile, Lord Alexander added, "High Command had decided to form a Mediterranean Theater for the duration of this crisis, though if the same would be retained after the crisis is over is not something that I am privy to."

Harry blinked at that. Not so much the fact that Lord Alexander was not aware what High Command and the government is thinking, the young Ensign – soon to be Sub-Lieutenant – knew that most of the time, Lord Alexander was not in the know about what is going on in the minds of the staff that make up High Command. No, what Harry blinked in reaction to was the fact that High Command had decided to make a Theater.

Normally, the Holy Empire Armed Forces operates two services, the Imperial Ground Forces and the Imperial Fleet. Both uniformed services are augmented by a number of other uniformed services, though those are merely augmentations and does not necessarily mean that such units could be used for offensive purposes. Some, like the Coast Guard, are purely defensive units.

The Fleet and the Ground Forces are, in theory, commanded by the Golden Throne, but coursed through the Chief Imperial Marshall – an empty position because this is supposed to be the Crown Prince who is still recuperating from his latest medical operation – and the Minister for Defense. Below that, the Ground Forces and the Fleet are totally separate.

The creation of a Theater command would imply a combined force operation from the two services, something that, Harry realized, should have been obvious the moment that Lord Alexander had announced that he has been named commander of the force that would counter the invasion.

"Territorial and reserve units are, even now, being recalled to active duty," Lord Alexander continued, "I am not yet in the know as to how the planners and staffers are going to organize it, but I can tell you this, a new army, the Seventeenth, is being formed."

_That_ was news, Harry thought. There are fifteen armies in the Ground Forces, each corresponding to a specific geographical location. The Eight Army, as it were, is the army unit in Egypt and was tasked with defending that territory. As such, it is now the unit that is bearing the brunt of the fighting.

"Gentlemen," Lord Alexander suddenly said. In response to the rather forceful tone of the Archduke, every person in the room stiffened to attention even though they remained seated. Once he was sure that all attention was again turned to him, the Archduke continued, "Right now, it does not matter how this new unit would be deployed or what it would be composed of, right now, what is important is that each and every one of us is aware of what is happening and that we are all prepared to fight to defend our Holy Empire."

"Until that moment that you are called to receive your assignments and other duties, you are dismissed," Lord Alexander said.

Once more, there was the thunderous sound of the sole of shoes and boots hitting the ground as every person inside the gymnasium who was seated took to their feet. As one, they saluted Lord Alexander who effortlessly returned the salute before he exited the gymnasium, followed, as always, by his staff.

**(Headline of **_**the Britannian Imperial**_** – March 18, 2005)**

_**WAR; Holy Empire of Britannia declares war against the North African League; Lord Alexander, Archduke of England, named commander of Mediterranean Theatre; Pre-Dawn Bombardment takes 14**__**th**__** Infantry Division by surprise; North African League units crossing border into Egypt**_

_**Pendragon, Holy Empire of Britannia**__ – War drums beat and battle flags unfurled yesterday at the Imperial Parliament as Prime Minister Adrian Bean delivered a speech requesting Parliament to declare that a state of war exists between the Holy Empire of Britannia and the North African League._

"_Today, the Holy Empire has been attacked," the Prime Minister said in his opening statement, "Today, malicious men with delusional dreams of grandeur and an overinflated sense of ego had made the decision to doom men to death and countries to destruction. Today, the North African League, in a blatant display of contempt for the hard-earned peace that we now enjoy, had decided to begin armed operations against our forces in the Britannian Commonwealth Territory of Egypt."_

_Voting 1243-0, the Britannian Parliament responded favourably to the request of the Prime Minister and declared war against the North African League in response to the North African League's invasion of Egypt._

_After the vote was taken, the Prime Minister made the following statement in front of his colleague, "This is a war that we had not chosen, but this is a war that we will end. We must never throw the first punch, but we will throw the last one."_

_At the Crystal Palace, the news of the attack at Egypt had prompted the Imperial Knights and members of the I Capital Defence Army to end all guided and unguided tours inside the palace. At the same time, the Imperial Knights have begun to fortify the defences of the official residence of Her Majesty, the Empress and the Royal Family._

_Reacting to the news of the invasion of Egypt, the Crystal Palace released a statement forty minutes before the declaration of war by parliament, "Her Majesty, the Empress, has ordered the First Sea Lord and the Chief of Staff of the Army to use whatever necessary means to remove the North African League from Britannian territory."_

"_At the same time, Her Majesty would like to express her condolences to the bereaved family of those who have been killed in service to the Golden Throne."_

_Her Majesty, the Empress, is expected to address Parliament today during an extra-ordinary session of the latter to discuss the war. _

_At the same time that the Crystal Palace had released the statement, Imperial High Command had announced the formation of the Mediterranean Theatre in order to prosecute the war in Egypt. Lord Alexander Charles York, High Admiral and Archduke of England, had been named commander of the Theatre. _

_The Archduke is currently in the Britannian mainland as he is in vacation, but with the start of hostilities in the African continent, Lord Alexander himself confirmed that he would soon be leaving the mainland for the frontlines. _

"_This is not a cause for celebration," Lord Alexander was quoted as saying, "This is, rather, a cause for mourning. The fact that this order had to be given means that war is now upon us. We have always known that war is inevitable, but we had prayed long and hard that such a war would not happen in our lifetime and in the lifetimes of our children and their children, we had prayed that the inevitable war be postponed until the moment that we, as a race, would realize that war is a waste. Now that war is here, however, we must prosecute it to the best of our ability, we must be prepared to make even the ultimate sacrifice to defend our country and all those who live within and look upon our flag in reverence."_

_The staff of Lord Alexander had announced that the Archduke would soon be travelling with the bulk of his Grand Fleet to the Britannian territory of Gibraltar in order to establish a provisional headquarters in preparation for the move into Egypt. The move is not expected to be complicated given that the North African League does not really have a navy that they could use to impede the passage of the Grand Fleet._

"_Frankly, the concern that the General-Admiral has right now is the power vacuum that he would create in the North Sea when the bulk of the Grand Fleet leaves for Gibraltar," Admiral Alexander Halsley, commander of the 2__nd__ Carrier Division of the Grand Fleet and the man who would be in charge of the force that would be left behind to guard the North Sea in the absence of the bulk of the Grand Fleet, was quoted as saying, "The North African League has eight old armoured cruisers, what they call as Panzerschiffes across the English Channel, and they represent the most modern warships of the League. Frankly, sixteen of those would not stand a chance against even just one division of Britannian battleships, and Lord Alexander has nine of them."_

_Sources from within the Ground Forces have indicated that the first unit to be attacked was the 14__th__ Infantry Division of Major General George William Beck. The 14__th__ Infantry Division was protecting the border when it came under concentrated heavy artillery fire from across the border._

"_They came under fire from 155 millimetre howitzers," a source, speaking on condition of anonymity because he was not authorized to reveal anything, said, "Casualties are heavy and they were forced to retreat mere minutes before North African tanks came charging across the border."_

_The same source revealed that the 14__th__ Infantry – reinforced by other units of XXII Corps and with support XXVI Air Corps – had managed to contain the North African advance but the Britannian frontlines are still in shaky ground as Eight Army is having a hard time shifting their forces to contain a new assault from the North African League. _

_A localized counter-attack by the 14__th__ Infantry had managed to destroy a North African League artillery unit that strayed too close to the frontlines, but because of the volume of enemy soldiers in the area, the battalion that made the counter-attack had to return to their own lines. _

_In other news related to the unfolding war, units of the 68__th__ Bomber Wing, escorted by units from the 31__st__ Fighter Wing, crossed the border between the North African League and Egypt six hours after the first attack. The Britannian bombers attacked the Al-Shufra Navy Yard of the North African Fleet and managed to inflict severe damage at the yard while the Britannian fighters managed to shoot down seventeen North African defence fighters in exchange for two of their numbers. There is no word on the missing pilots._

_Britannian allies around the world had expressed dismay for the actions of the North African League while expressing support for the Holy Empire. In the Celestial Empire, the Crown Prince had offered to sell battleship shells to the Holy Empire at a discounted rate while the Kingdom of Spain had once more expressed their support to the Holy Empire at the same time that it offered the Imperial Navy the use of its anchorages in the Baleares._

_There has been no reaction from the closest allies of the North African League – the Prussian Empire and the Confederate States of the Amazons – as of the present time._

**Fort MacPherson, Rochester, New York**

**Holy Empire of Britannia**

**March 18, 2005**

The nervousness that Harry felt as he stepped across the threshold that divided the hallway with the make-shift – and commandeered – office of Lord Alexander was understandable, as was the swear on his brow.

The twenty five year old had – as Lord Alexander had indicated last night – received orders to alter his insignia and the sleeves of his dress blues to reflect the fact that he is now a sub-lieutenant, though he was yet to do exactly as the order had said. That, however, was not the reason that he was nervous.

Having arrived earlier than his meeting with the Commander-in-Chief, Mediterranean, Harry had been made to wait by an orderly that he had never seen before – though, in hindsight, he told himself that he should have realized that Lord Alexander would suddenly have an army of orderlies to assist him – and because he had been forced to wait, Harry was forced to witness the coming and going of senior commanders.

A mentally smile actually came across Harry as he thought about that. He was asked to take a seat while waiting, but because of the parade of senior officers, Harry was not actually able to sit as he had to offer a salute to each and every officer superior in rank to him that walked pass the waiting area.

The senior officers that had been parading in front of him since this morning is the reason for the nervousness that Harry felt as he walked into the office of his liege lord. The young naval officer had counted no less than fifteen men with triangles on their shoulders – staff-grade officers ranked from naval commodores and army brigadier generals to naval vice admirals and army lieutenant generals – and no less than five men with at one diamond on their shoulders – naval admirals and army generals.

It was pretty clear that Lord Alexander had been meeting with his direct subordinates within the theater command that he had been given all day. The fact that Lord Alexander had summoned him spoke of the fact that the High Admiral still has time for him, and that meant that the Commander-in-Chief, Mediterranean has a mission for him, and it would either be a high-profile or extremely low-profile mission, given that it appeared that Lord Alexander himself was going to brief him.

The moment that Harry caught sight of Lord Alexander, he snapped into attention and offered the High Admiral a salute. Lord Alexander and his immediate staff – Admiral Cline, Vice Admiral Ashford, Admiral Granger, Admiral Dalton, and Admiral Bingham – were conferring with each other as they stood at the perimeter of a wooden table filled with blocks. A number of other officers wearing the uniform of the Britannian Ground Forces were with them, also deep in discussion.

Admiral Cline was the first person to notice Harry and the chief-of-staff of Lord Alexander lightly nudged Lord Alexander – who was discussing something with the man who appears to be the senior-most ground forces officer in the area – before he indicated to Lord Alexander that Harry had arrived.

"Lieutenant," Lord Alexander said, nodding toward Harry, but he did not say anything toward Harry, instead, he turned his attention to the other officers in the area and said, "Excuse us gentlemen, the lieutenant and I have to discuss his part in the coming campaign."

Harry suspected that most of the officers who had been politely asked to leave – because that was what that was, they had been asked to leave – would have grumbled, but they kept their mouths shut and quietly left the room.

When only Lord Alexander, Harry, and both Admiral Cline and Vice Admiral Ashford were left in the room, Lord Alexander motioned for Harry to come over, and invited Harry to look over the surface of the table where a few moments ago, the Archduke and his subordinates had all of their attention on.

As Harry had expected, on the surface of the table was a map, a representation of the entire coastline of the North African League and Egypt, complete with colored blocks representing the units that are already engaged in combat. What surprised Harry, though, was where some of the blocks representing Britannian units were on the map.

Lord Alexander was quick to notice where Harry was looking, and the Archduke said, "Opening a second front is the best way to react, in my opinion."

Harry tore his attention away from the surface of the table and focused it toward Lord Alexander, but he did not do anything else. He was unsure if he was being asked to comment, so without a direct order, he kept his mouth shut, and that was something that made Lord Alexander smile.

"Your part in the coming counter-offensive, however, would not be with the units that are soon going to land along the west coast of the North African League," Lord Alexander said, "Your part in the counter-offensive would be at the eastern front of this campaign."

Lord Alexander inclined his head toward Vice Admiral Ashford and the chief military advisor of Lord Alexander was quick on the uptake, "We have had reliable intelligence coming from the North African League since the beginning of the century, Lieutenant," the bespectacled man said with authority, but that was hardly surprising, Vice Admiral Ashford is always on top of everything, "So, we know, with reasonable certainty, who the enemy is, but there had always been a disturbing trend with the intelligence that we had been receiving from within the headquarters of the North African League."

"Unfortunately, I cannot tell you how intelligence came up with this assessment because I do not know myself," Vice Admiral Ashford continued, "but intelligence is of the belief that there is a secret unit within the order of battle of the North African League, a unit that we had never seen before, but, from all reports, a unit made up of special men."

"Mages," Harry suddenly commented. In a way it made sense. The fact that 'special men' had been used and the fact that he had been called here, there truly was just one conclusion that could be drawn from the facts.

"This is our suspicion as well," Lord Alexander suddenly said. He turned his full attention toward Harry, forcing the younger man to refocus his attention toward his liege lord, "We do not know for certain, which is why I am asking you to make certain for me."

Harry nodded, "Understood sir," he replied, "Imperial Knights?"

Lord Alexander shook his head, "Much as I would want to, I cannot order the deployment of the Imperial Knights," he said, "Only Her Majesty could order the deployment of her bodyguards, and she would not give permission, not without the information that I am sending you out there to get in the first place."

Harry nodded. If he was being honest, the twenty five year old would have to admit that he did not really think that the Imperial Knights would be allowed to deploy in this operation. Still, it would have been a boon if even just one battalion of the thirty thousand strong private bodyguards of the Golden Throne could be deployed with them. After all, one thousand wizards with military training and impeccable loyalty would be nothing to sneeze at.

"Instead, you'll have units from Marine Force Recon with you for this operation," Lord Alexander continued, and Harry had to fight the urge to groan. The Marine Force Recon was well known for their skills and abilities, and their dislike for people that they perceive to be outsiders being forced to work with them on their operations.

"They are the best we have," Admiral Cline suddenly said, "I, too, would have preferred Imperial Knights accompany you in this mission, but we have technicalities to consider."

Harry nodded, "Understood, sir," he replied, but he did not elaborate further, aware that his superior officers are not there to discuss his opinions with him.

"I need you at the front as soon as possible, Harry," Lord Alexander said, "So you are dismissed until 18.00 Hours tomorrow when you will report to Norfolk Naval Yard for transport across the Atlantic," he shook his head and added, "Go to Hermione and your family, it may be the last time that you would see them in a long time."

**Kottelberg Castle, West Pomerania**

**Prussia**

**March 18, 2005**

Lucius Malfoy had to fight the urge to sneer as he watched the messengers of the Kaiser depart his castle using their infernal muggle machine. The Head of the Malfoy Family reminded himself that while he had sworn loyalty to the Kaiser, he had not given the man a magical vow. No, Lucius reminded himself, his vow to the Dark Lord was still there and that is where his true loyalties lie.

As the black Mercedes Benz carrying the delegation of the Kaiser disappeared off the horizon, Lucius found himself pondering his current position. Officially, he is an advisor to the Kaiser, but unofficially, he is the most trusted advisor of the Kaiser. He had managed to worm his way into the side of the man by underhanded tactics, utilizing rumor-mongering, bribery, and – in two cases – outright assassination, to remove all those who would hinder his rise. In the ten years since he and his family had been forced to flee the British Isles, Lucius had risen to the position of Inspector-General of the Teutonic Knights, the man who is in actual command of the bodyguards of the Kaiser despite the fact that Lucius is not a military man.

The Teutonic Knights, however, respect him, given his magical abilities and his prowess for predicting what is likely to happen before it happened. It helped that the Teutonic Knights were magical and most of them graduated from Durmstrang Academy before they were forced to enter the Prussian military due to conscription.

A sigh escaped through the pale lips of the head of the Malfoy family before he turned his attention back toward the interior of the castle that the Kaiser had granted to him as a reward for Lucius' service to the Prussian Empire. It was larger than his manor back in England, but to Lucius, it always felt empty. When he and his family were forced to flee lest they be arrested and incarcerated, the family had to leave behind all of their valuables save for a few family heirlooms and little gold.

As he walked toward his study, Lucius allowed his mind to drift to the news that the messengers of the Kaiser had delivered. The pureblood supremacist in Lucius had to scoff at the notion of muggles waging war with each other, but the practical side of him – the man that had, over the past ten years, witnessed the true power of the muggle world – had to shudder. War had always been the most destructive thing that men do to each other, and it would appear that it had once more reared its ugly head.

The only good thing about this was the fact that the Prussian Empire was not involved in this – '_at least,'_ Lucius thought, _'not yet_' – and with that, he realized that if his machinations at the North African League – some without the knowledge of the Kaiser – were ever discovered, then not only would the Prussian Empire be at war with the Holy Empire of Britannia, the Prussian Empire would most likely be hunting him and his family at the same time.

Lucius reached the double doors of his library and manually pushed the door open. The first thing that greeted him was a giant portrait – commissioned by Lucius from a man whose memory, Lucius erased shortly after receiving the painting – showcasing the Dark Lord and his most loyal Death Eaters around him.

The mere sight of the portrait was enough to strengthen the resolve of Lucius Malfoy, "For the Dark Lord," the man uttered beneath his breath as he walked into his library, closing the door behind him as he crossed the threshold.


	16. Chapter XVI

**A/N: **I do not own Harry Potter or anything associated with it.

* * *

**SIXTEEN**

**#44 Willow Street, Granger Residence, Albany, Duchy of New York**

**Archduchy of Belleview, Mainland Holy Empire of Britannia**

**March 19, 2005**

Although best described as a non-descript house that followed the general style in the area where it was located, there had always been something special about the house in number 44 Willow Street that even the neighbors knew about.

After all, a house where the chief civilian adviser to the son of the Archduke of Belleview could not be described as ordinary, and it is well known that Lord James, Duke of Oxford and his family consider the house that came to be known as the Granger Residence as their home away from home whenever they are in the east coast of the mainland and not staying at Rochester Castle.

It was also well known that the son of Lord James and the daughter of the owner of the house were dating; the two are frequently seen together visiting either the movie houses or the nearby central park, often with their hands intertwined. Aside from that, both Harry and Hermione could also be frequently seen at the local dance hall, though neither are known to dance that much.

Although less known, it was also public knowledge that the owner of the house was not only a member of the Imperial Navy, his older brother is in the staff of the Archduke of England himself and is considered as one of the inner circle of Lord Alexander. It was not that surprising, therefore, when the Archduke of England himself visited the house just a few weeks ago at the start of his vacation.

With the outbreak of hostilities, it was not surprising that there were a number of cars at the road in front of the house. Aside from the silver sedan and the blank sport utility vehicle that was usually parked at the garage of the house, there was a black sedan and a navy blue – naval colors – sports truck that was obviously a government issued vehicle. It seemed to stand as a stark contrast to the civilian cars that it mingled with despite the fact that the colors of the vehicles are almost all the same shade. It was also a stark reminder to the townspeople that passed by the house of the new reality that the Empire had been forced to wake up in.

Inside the house, however, there was little talk of the coming battles or of the war in general. There was even limited talk on politics despite the fact that both Lord James and Lady Lily are present inside the spacious house. The Duke and Duchess of Oxford are both set to leave the mainland and return to the British Isles where Lord James is to resume his post as chief royal administrator of the Britannian territory. In a sense, this dinner was as much as for them as it was for the two men seated at the dining table who were already wearing utility uniforms.

The combined Potter and Granger families are both well aware of the separation that would be forced upon them after dinner. Harry and Daniel Granger are both going to return to their respective bases a few hours after this dinner where they would be informed on their official duties, though both men already knew what they would be doing. As if to further emphasize that fact, both men were wearing their military uniforms – minus the jackets which they hang at the stand just a few feet away from the door, next to their packed bags.

Lord James and Lady Lily are to return to New York right after this dinner where a civilian transport is waiting to take them back to the British Isles. The fact that they are in civilian clothes does not change the fact that their suitcases are with the suitcase of their son and of Daniel Granger at the foyer.

Hermione is also set to leave, but unlike the others, she would return to Rochester and be at the side of Lady Emma. The youngest Granger at the table was not aware of what assignment she would be given, but she suspects that it would have something to do with the relationship between the Holy Empire and the Kingdom of Spain. There is no exact timetable for when she would depart, but Hermione knew that it would be by the end of the week at the latest.

As she officially still has no idea where she would be sent, Hermione had not yet packed her bags, though that could change as early as tonight, after dinner.

By this time next week, the only ones who would still be inside the house would be the lady of the house, Rose Granger, and the Potter daughter, Rose Charlene, and the younger of the two would not even be staying at the house full time, since Rose Charlene has to return back to the city every now and then to see to her work. She has just been recently hired by a private firm, and it would not make a good impression on her new employer – or on her record – if she was to suddenly drop out of the world just because her entire family is off to war.

It was, therefore, not surprising that the conversation at the table revolved around the happier times, with everyone pointedly refusing to talk about the current situation, though the fact remains that everyone was thinking about that.

Harry and Hermione held each other's hand whenever they could, while Rose and Daniel did the same. Lady Lily fussed over her daughter while glancing nervously toward Lord James every few moments.

It was Rose Charlene who broke the awkward attempts of everyone not to talk about the war. As she replaced her utensils on the surface of her plate, she glanced toward her father and said, "We should have this same dinner when the situation is resolved and you have all returned."

For a few moments, there was a pregnant silence as everyone tried to digest what the youngest person in the table had said, but after a few moments, the pregnant silence was broken by the smiles of everyone in the table that, although it produced no sound, nevertheless spoke of the approval for the plan.

"That is an excellent idea," Daniel said, voicing the sentiment of everyone at the table. He regarded the face of everyone at the table, ostensibly to check on their reaction, though he already knew – even as he once more took the hand of his wife in his – that everyone liked the idea, "We should have this same dinner and hopefully soon."

There were general nods all around the table as everyone voiced his or her agreement with the proposed plan and for the rest of the dinner; everyone could at least look forward at something.

The end of diner saw the couples break for alone time. While Lord James and Lady Lily, accompanied by Rose Charlene, spend time at the living room of the Granger House in order to speak with their daughter, and Rose and Daniel Granger took their alone time to their bedroom, Harry and Hermione took their alone time at the now deserted central park.

Both knew that the park would not have been deserted if times were normal. Even at this late hour, there would still be couples here, but the two of them figured that the outbreak of war had seen schedules disturbed as the male in those couples had been ordered to report to their units.

"You know that I do not like this," Hermione said as Harry helped her take a seat at one of the many wooden benches that dotted the park.

Harry had to smirk, "The bench?" he asked, even though he already knew exactly what Hermione was referring to, and he knew that she was not talking about the bench.

"Prat," Hermione said, lightly tapping the chest of Harry with her hand even as he took his seat beside her. It did not take them even ten seconds before the back of Hermione was resting on the chest of Harry. His right arm embraced her from behind, and the fingers on her left hand twisted to intertwine with the fingers on his right hand.

"We have been ordered," Harry suddenly said. He paused before he added, "It is not something that we could just ignore, Hermione."

"I know Harry," she replied even as she pushed herself closer toward him. She sighed before she asked in a serious voice that spoke of her worry, "Would you be safe?"

Both knew that whatever else Harry may answer to that question, it would not really be up to Harry what would happen. The first response of Harry was to nod, but when he realized that Hermione might not see that, he instead said, "I would be safe," and before Hermione could say anything, Harry added, "And I would come back to you, I promise you that."

Hermione did not say anything for a few moments; instead, she kept her gaze not toward Harry but toward the sky above them. Despite her highly logical mind, to Hermione, at that moment, there seem to be more stars than she had ever seen before. A smile graced her lips as she was reminded by own mind that that was not possible, but even logic must flee at the situation that she is now in.

Harry suddenly felt her tighten her grip on his arm. He would have protested, had Hermione not chosen that moment to straighten up and to take her back away from his chest. She could not turn to him, at least, not that much and not without removing her grip on his hand, something that neither of them wanted to do at that moment, "I will hold you into that promise," she warned him.

This time, it was the turn of Harry to have a smile on his lips, "And I would be more than happy for you to do that, my love," he replied. His free hand gently entered a pocket on his utility uniform and from said pocket, he pulled out a small red box.

From their position, Hermione could not have seen the box, but it would not have mattered because a few moments later, Harry showed the box to her. She gasped at the sight of the box, aware of what she could see inside it, but before Hermione could say anything, Harry cut her off, "I'm not proposing, you understand," he quickly said

"Then why am I seeing a box that, I assume, would have a ring inside it?" Hermione asked. Both Harry and Hermione could hear the edge on the tone that she had used, but both Harry and Hermione knew that it was a normal reaction to the fact that Harry ad just showed her a ring box and had told her that he is not proposing to her.

Of course, Hermione holding back her own emotions have a strong influence on how short her temper was at that moment.

"It's a promise," Harry suddenly said.

The expression on the face of Hermione softened at that. She would have removed her grip from his hand at that moment so that she could turn her full face toward him, but he would not let her. At the same time that she relaxed her grip in preparation for her removing her hand from his, he tightened his grip, and Harry actually spoke, "No," he said, shaking his head for emphasis, "Let's remain here."

The look on the face of Hermione meant that she would have protested, but after a few moments, she decided to do as he suggested and stopped protesting. She wanted to say something, but Harry cut her off again, "This is a promise ring, Hermione," she said even as he used his free hand to open the box and reveal a ring to her.

It was unadorned, just a simple silver-colored ring with a black line that seem to bisect the ring into two equal parts. A closer look at the surface, however, would reveal a simple phrase stenciled into the ring, '_I promise'_.

Hermione, at that moment, could not see it. she would not have seen it even if she had wanted to, however, because at that moment, she was nearly overwhelmed by her emotions, "Come back to me, Harry," she suddenly said, her own self-control finally bursting and an torrential flood of emotions gushing forth from her, "Please, come back to me."

"I promise," Harry replied, even as he gently took her free hand with his own and slipped the ring onto her index finger.

**Order of the Phoenix safe house, Trondheim**

**Norway, Scandinavian Union**

**March 19, 2005**

It was only during the late nights of the evening or the wee hours of the morning that the members of the Order of the Phoenix could meet. It was a requirement and a necessity brought about not by the fact that majority of the members prefer to meet during these hours, rather, it was a necessity brought about by the fact that most members of the Order are actually wanted criminals.

With the promised cooperation from the Scandinavian Union regarding their capture, the Holy Empire of Britannia now has several agents in the county, and the safe house that Albus Dumbledore and his closest followers had acquired before their fall from grace over ten years ago had become the only place that the members of the Order could meet, and even then, they could only meet when the watchful eyes of the neighbors are not actually watching over the house.

Gone were the days when Albus and his followers could languish in the outdoor cafes and linger in the tastefully decorated interiors of the restaurants that line up the boulevard parallel to the sea wall that separate the city from the frigid waters of the North Sea. Nowadays, they are stuck in the competitively frigid basement of the safe house, another necessity brought about by the fact that most of them are hunted. Excessive magic in the house to power warming charms would have been detected by the rumored magic grids that Britannian agents had set up around the city.

That was one of the reasons why most members of the Order would rather not attend a meeting, especially one that was so hastily called. Most would prefer to remain where they had hidden themselves, and after ten years of trying to blend in, most are actually very good at it, with quite a few actually holding steady – albeit majority of them being menial – jobs in the community.

When the former Headmaster of Hogwarts calls, however, everyone would answer, even if quite a few of them would actually brave washing dishes or sweeping floors instead of standing around in the basement of a house, trying their best to ward off the cold.

The first person to arrive at the house – by walking, absolutely no apparition allowed near the house save in cases of extreme emergency, magical grids could detect the faintest hint of magic in the air – was surprised to see that Albus Dumbledore was actually waiting for his followers at the basement already. Usually, the former Headmaster would not make an appearance until after everyone was already present and accounted for. The fact that the Headmaster was already in the basement spoke of the grave urgency that must be the reason behind this impromptu meeting.

The former Headmaster of Hogwarts greeted each arrival with a nod and an easy smile, the kind of smile that one could label as the grandfather smile and the only reply to which would be another smile despite the fact that the recipient would rather not want to smile.

His presence, and that recognition, had silenced any kind of complaint that any of the arriving members had wanted to utter, and there were many who would have complained about the timing of the meeting had Albus Dumbledore not been on hand to greet them. Equally surprising was the fact that neither of the two most trusted members of the former Headmaster of Hogwarts was present.

Severus Snape and Alastor Moody never saw eye to eye, but the two had effectively run the Order – or what remained of it, at least – in the absence of Albus, and the former Headmaster was frequently absent in the day to day operations of the clandestine organization.

One of the last to arrive at the basement of the safe house was Ronald Weasley and his sister, Ginevra. As always, the two had the mismatched look of magicals trying to pass off as muggles with the type of clothes that they wore. It was strange that no one had ever realized that the two were magicals, though no one in the remaining members of the Order thought it strange why, despite more than ten years of hiding, the two youngest Weasley siblings still had not picked up the ability to blend in with the muggle crowd. Both still held the muggle world in contempt despite the fact that they had been living in it up for the past ten years and had been exposed to that world.

In fairness to the two, however, most of their compatriots, despite their attempts to look muggle, also had the same prejudice.

Most members of the Order looked toward the direction of the two as the young siblings took their seats at the very first row of the gathered members. Although it was not clear when it began, Albus had labeled the two as the next generation leaders of the Order, a fact that left many, the parents of Ron and Ginny included, worried for the future of the Order. Nothing that anyone would say, however, would dissuade the former Headmaster from labeling the two as such.

As if to further advertise that fact, before Ron could take his seat, the former Headmaster called for him and for a few moments, the two conferred between themselves, the former Headmaster and his former student.

"Excellent, now we are all here," Albus suddenly said, and sure enough, even before he finished saying that, both Severus Snape and Alastor Moody entered the basement. The two men barely acknowledged the other before they took their seats also at the front row of the assembled congregation. Ron quickly followed suit and also took his seat at the head of the congregation, beside his sister.

"By now, this is known by everyone around the world," the former Headmaster of Hogwarts said. He paused dramatically before he continued, "War has been declared by the Holy Empire of Britannia against the North African League."

As was expected by Albus, not a few of the men and women assembled in front of him had a look of confusion on their faces. They are well aware of what the Holy Empire of Britannia is, but quite a few of them are not aware of what the North African League is, even considering that almost a quarter of some of the most important potions ingredients that supplied the British magical world came from the North Africa League.

"Are you thinking that we could use this time to return back to the British Isles and try to incite a revolt there?" Moody suddenly asked. As was usual for the former auror and the leader of the combat arm of the Order of the Phoenix, he was not going to mince words and even pretend to show respect to the Headmaster. His respect for his former friend as a friend died when they left the land of their birth, the only thing left is his respect for the man as a leader of people, and that was the reason why Alastor had not yet left the Order.

"It is the perfect time," Albus acknowledged, nodding toward his friend.

The reply of Moody was a guttural laughter that the grizzled old auror knew rankled many a person inside the basement because it was disrespectful toward the former Headmaster.

"It is the worst time," Moody corrected his former friend at the same time that he fervently shook his head. He did not allow anyone else to say anything before he added, "Their security would be at its tightest, and I have heard that the Prince is leaving to take command of the front himself, do you know what that means?"

"Would it not mean that security would be lax because he would not be there?" Ron suddenly asked. The young man fancied himself as a strategist, but most of his suggestions turn out to be rehash from other members. The former Headmaster had chosen to view the suggestions of Ronald Weasley as coming from the boy, but there are quite a few older supporters who are getting fed up with the actions of the leader of the Order of the Phoenix.

"The opposite would happen," Severus Snape interjected. The former potions master of Hogwarts turned toward Moody before he abruptly returned his gaze not toward Ronald – with whom Severus had always had a rocky relationship with, not helped by the fact that, most of the time, it was the idea of the potions master who gets credited to Ron.

The eye of Snape and Moody did not actually meet during the brief time that the potions master had his gaze upon the former auror, but both men knew the reason that Snape turned toward a one-time foe. Both found it strange that they are on the same side in an argument.

"With the Prince of England gone from his territory, someone else would be appointed as head of administration in his stead," Snape explained. The man, despite his sour attitude, had always been one of the smarter ones in either the Order or the Death Eaters and he was a member of both organizations. "Likely, the Prince would nominate a candidate, and likely, said candidate would be chosen."

"And who do you think would the Prince nominate?" Albus asked, a twinkle in his eye that most members either ignored or did not see. Neither Moody nor Snape was in the mood to play with the former Headmaster in a guessing game at that moment, though.

"You know perfectly well who would be appointed to the post," Moody replied gruffly. The grizzled old auror did not even flinch when most of the members of the Order gave him the evil eye for the way that he spoke to the Headmaster.

"James Potter, Duke of Oxford," Snape added, gritting his teeth as he forced himself to say the name of his school rival and the man to whom he lost his best friend to.

"Then, we should speak…," Ron began.

Moody cut off the boy before he can even make the suggestion that everyone in the room knew he would make, "You do not know James Potter, boy," the old auror charged, "Or any of the Potter family for that matter, I knew James Potter, just as I knew his father and his father's father."

"Although they were not ennobled back then, at least, not in the muggle world, the Potter family had always been an honorable family," Albus said, he sighed, and this time – it was not for dramatic effect – before he added, "'_Bastion of Honor'_, that was their family motto."

"And it is unlikely that _Lord _Potter would listen to us," Moody added, emphasizing the honorific title in order to remind everyone in the room that James had more to lose siding with the Order than siding against it. The man, after all, is already a lord in the muggle world, and from all reports, one that is widely respected by both side of the aisles – in all national parliaments of Britannian territories, and in the Imperial House of Lords.

A pregnant silence descended in the basement as the members of the Order considered the words that were just spoken. It was true that both James and Lily Potter were members of the Order, but that was when the Order was not yet an illegal group and before the Order was forced to flee the British Isles. Indeed, James and Lily Potter were some of those who had made the proscription of the Order possible. It was unlikely – impossible would probably be a more apt word – that the two would be willing to help the Order.

"Wars are never popular in the long run," one of the members of the Order at the back row suddenly said. All attention was turned toward the speaker and Hestia Jones, a relatively junior member of the Order, soon found herself being stared at by majority of the Order, forcing her to explain, "Perhaps we could send a few of our own agents to spread dissent in the British Isles, in preparation for our return."

'_That is a good idea,'_ was the thought in the mind of both Snape and Moody, but neither man though to voice out their thoughts, aware that the former Headmaster of Hogwarts was probably thinking in the same vein as them.

Their suspicions was proven correct when the former Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot suddenly nodded, "That is a good idea," Albus said, "We still have contacts within the British magical government, perhaps we could use them?" and that was a rhetoric question as everyone knew that that was exactly what the former Headmaster would do.

"See to it, please, Severus, Alastor," the leader of the Order said as he turned toward the two man that he had named. Both men do not look forward to arranging for Order agents to arrive at the British Isles and they actually showed it on their faces, but the former Headmaster either did not see the expression or just ignored the same, though it was more likely the latter, after all, Albus Dumbledore not only does not miss details, he is a skilled Legilimens who have no qualms about using his ability against his own people.

"Ronald, Ginevra," the Headmaster said almost as soon as he had finished giving his instructions to his two senior lieutenants. Albus turned his attention toward the two children – despite already being in their twenties, the two still act as if they are children – and quickly said, "I wish to discuss something with the two of you in confidence, so if you could please stay?"

The former Headmaster missed the look that most of his other people – Severus and Alastor included – were shooting toward him and the two youngest Weasleys when he said that, but that was hardly surprising, the leader of the Order of the Phoenix was used to missing looks of disapproval coming from his people nowadays, and for those looks of disapproval that he does not miss, the former Headmaster had another method that he could use when dealing with those, he pointedly ignores them.

**Rochester Castle, Rochester, Duchy of New York**

**Britannian mainland, Holy Empire of Britannia**

**March 20, 2005**

Hermione could not even remember when was the last time that she walked into the main foyer of the castle and was greeted by a member of the staff of the castle, much less the last time that she walked into the main foyer of the castle and be greeted by a uniformed – and armed – sergeant that was wearing the uniform of the Household Cavalry.

Hermione supposed that she should not have been surprised. After all, the Holy Empire is now at war and Lord Stephen is a member of the Imperial Family. It made sense that he would be secured by members of the Household Cavalry.

'_Not Imperial Knights,'_ Hermione thought. The Imperial Knights are forbidden from deploying out of the capital without permission from the Golden Throne.

Hermione forced herself out of her reverie and quickly made her way to the third floor of the castle. Although it is the official residence of Lord Stephen, the actual residence of the Archduke of Belleview is at the keep, at the very center of the castle. The rest of the castle is being used for administrative purposes and for offices of the other high ranking members of the family who would rather not be at the capital.

It was the office of one of these members of the family that Hermione was heading to.

There were no guards beside the door that would lead to the office that Lady Emma had chosen for the duration of her stay at the castle, but that was hardly surprising. Aside from the fact that the wife of Lord Alexander was not overly fond of having guards – an attitude that she shares with her husband – the interior of the castle was supposedly secured anyway.

After knocking twice on the door and hearing the voice of Lady Emma asking her to come in, Hermione opened the door and stepped through the threshold when she had opened it wide enough. She found herself in a relatively small room, but with Lady Emma, it was more than enough since it was just an office.

"Hermione," Lady Emma greeted. The younger girl returned the greeting of the Archduchess of England with a small curtsey, something that caused Lady Emma to frown slightly at her, though the Archduchess did not say anything and Hermione did not actually see the frown on the face of her liege lady.

"Your Grace," Hermione added as she brought herself up to her full height. This time, Hermione saw the frown on the face of Lady Emma, but instead of chastising Hermione, this actually brought a smile across her face. Hermione was well aware of how much Lady Emma hates the pleasantries when it is just them, which, Hermione had to admit, is the reason why she does it.

"Are your bags packed, Hermione?" Lady Emma suddenly asked. The fact that it has no preamble caught Hermione by surprise for the first few moments, but she was able to quickly recover.

"I was not aware that we would be leaving, my Lady," Hermione replied, and that was the truth. Then again, Hermione realized that she should have known, after all, she had been working with Lady Emma since she graduated from the University of Olympia as a part of the diplomatic team of the Archduchess. The fact that the Holy Empire had gone to war means that the Archduchess – special ambassador of the Imperial Family – would, once more, be busy.

"Where are we headed?" Hermione asked as she mentally prepared a checklist for the things that she should pack in her bag when she gets home. Although she asked that question, Hermione already has some suspicions as to where they would be headed.

"Madrid, Spain," Lady Emma replied a few moments later, causing Hermione to silently remark, _'Spot on'_.

Although, in hindsight, it was not that surprising, given the geography that the Holy Empire would be forced to contend with. The Straits of Gibraltar is just one of many demilitarized zones in the world, but with the outbreak of hostilities, the Holy Empire must secure passage of their ships and men across the strait. Sure, the Britannian Fleet could fly, but that would still require clearance from the Kingdom of Spain.

The other alternative route – up north from the Suez – would not be advisable given that it is on the other side of the North African League. It would be far easier for Lord Alexander and his new command to just stage an invasion of the North African League at its west coast than to use that route.

"I would have my bags packed as soon as I get home, My Lady," Hermione replied. She waited for the Archduchess to say anything else, but Lady Emma had already dismissed her with a wave of her hand and a smile.

**Fort Harrison, Nassau**

**Bahamas, Holy Empire of Britannia**

**March 21, 2005**

Harry saluted as he snapped to attention in front of the man wearing the uniform of the Britannian Ground Force but with Britannian Fleet insignia. The man sat behind an impressive looking desk with another person – dressed in the uniform of the Ground Forces but with Fleet insignia as well – standing at parade rest off to his right.

Colonel Anton Carleton, commander of the 4th Force Recon Battalion, 7th Recon Brigade of the Imperial Grand Fleet, returned the salute of Harry without even bothering to stand from his chair, but that was his prerogative.

Harry gave himself a few moments to scan the ribbons and decorations that adorned the dress uniform of the man who had made a legend of himself as a leader of men and had to bite his tongue in order to prevent himself from letting out an undisciplined whistle. Colonel Carleton had led a colorful life on the battlefields that the Holy Empire had involved itself in, and the evidence of that – as well as of his bravery – was at his uniform for everyone to see, including a highly coveted Britannian Cross ribbon.

"Lieutenant Potter," the gruff voice of the colonel tore Harry out of his reverie and made him return to the present. In response to his name being called, Harry turned all of his attention toward the man but despite the fact that Harry wanted to ask why the man had called for him, he knew that that was the improper response in a military setting. He would have no choice but to wait for the colonel to explain without being prompted.

"This is Lieutenant Alan Richardson," Colonel Carleton continued, motioning toward the other man. Lieutenant Richardson does not appear to be as decorated as the colonel, but there are a number of ribbons on his uniform, including a combat action ribbon, denoting that the man had seen action during the course of his service. Harry does not have one of those, though the young sub-lieutenant suspected that he would soon have one.

For a brief few moments, Harry wondered why the colonel had brought a subordinate – because it was obvious that Lieutenant Richardson is a subordinate of the colonel – with him, but after a few moments, Harry realized that the reason for that is because the lieutenant is the man that Harry would soon be working with, and that realization prompted Harry to use his peripheral vision to study the man even more.

Not for the first time since he was informed that he would have to work with Marine Force Recon on this assignment, Harry wished he could have had the Imperial Knights with him instead, and the look on the face of Lieutenant Richardson did nothing to quell that wish.

"You two will be working closely on this assignment that our commander had given us," Colonel Carleton said, finally confirming the suspicions of Harry, "As such, Lieutenant Potter, you would be assigned with the command of Lieutenant Richardson, 4th Platoon, 4/4 Recon Battalion."

"Understood sir," Harry replied, he turned toward the marine lieutenant but did not smile as Harry knew that that would be frowned upon. Instead, Harry extended his right hand toward the marine and waited to see if the man would accept it.

Lieutenant Richardson studied the bespectacled man in front of him with a neutral expression on his face, though deep inside, he was seething, and the thirty two year old does not even care if Harry could see that he was seething, though he did his best to hide the fact from his commanding officer.

Like all members of Marine Force Recon, he was not thrilled with the fact that he was being saddled with a newbie, even if he was assured that said newbie would be critical for the success of the assignment that they had been given. A quick glance at the ribbons on the uniform of Harry did not help the lieutenant form a favorable opinion of the – in his opinion – boy in front of him.

Aside from the commendation medals, the only thing worth commenting on the ribbons that Harry was wearing was the Legion of Merit, though without knowing how, when, and why Harry earned that coveted decoration, Lieutenant Richardson was not going to jump ship and give Harry a favorable opinion.

After a few moments, the Lieutenant extended his hand and grasped the offered hand of Harry. The two men shook hands, but their handshake did not last long.

"Lieutenant Richardson," the colonel speaking was the first thing that happened right after Harry and Lieutenant Richardson shook hands. The named officer turned his attention toward the colonel just in time to see as the colonel said, "Lieutenant Potter and I have some things to discuss, report to me by 17.00 Hours tonight as to the readiness of your platoon for travel to the front and for quick operations once you are there," the colonel paused before he quickly added, "until then, you are dismissed."

The look on the face of the marine lieutenant did not change as he gave a salute to his commanding officer, though deep inside, Lieutenant Richardson found himself wondering why he was suddenly being dismissed and why Sub-Lieutenant Potter was not. He heard the colonel say that there are some matters that have to be discussed in private between the two of them, but Lieutenant Richardson thought that he would be included in that discussion.

Nevertheless, he was not going to question the orders that he had been given, which is why after the colonel had returned his salute, he left the office, leaving the two men to discuss whatever it is that they are supposed to discuss.

Colonel Carleton waited until he was sure that Lieutenant Richardson was not going to be able to eavesdrop – not that he believed that the lieutenant would eavesdrop anyway – before he returned his attention toward Harry, "He would probably not like that abrupt dismissal," the colonel said, "but for what we need to discuss, the lieutenant has not been cleared."

Harry nodded, "Yes sir," he replied, "May I presume that what we are about to discuss has something to do with the classified objective of the assignment, sir?"

"Yes," the colonel replied, he motioned for Harry to take a seat and the younger man complied before the colonel continued, "The General-Admiral himself had briefed me on the reason for the fact that this mission is so classified, and without a demonstration, I would not have believed it possible," the colonel shook his head for emphasis before he added, "I don't think I still do completely, but the General-Admiral has given his instructions."

Harry just nodded without saying anything, he knew that the colonel was not done, and Harry was proven correct a few moments later when the colonel withdrew a manila envelope from one of the drawers on his desk. The front of the envelope had 'classified' stamped in red across it diagonally, and Harry quickly assumed that the contents of the folder are probably the same evidence that convinced Lord Alexander that the North African League has a mage unit under their command or would soon have one.

"I know that you are a part of the Imperial Knight Corps, albeit with all of their ranks filled, you could not take your place with their ranks," the colonel added, "You have automatic clearance to see this photographs, they have been recently taken by deep cover agents in the North African League."

Harry silently took the envelope and opened it to reveal two dozen or so black and white photographs and a few colored photos. As he did so, his mind wandered back to the earlier part of what the colonel had said, about Harry being a part of the Imperial Knight Corps. At any given time, the elite unit of the Holy Empire has only thirty thousand members in its two divisions, but recruitment for the unit goes on anyway, with those who could not find placement in the two divisions being sent to ordinary units to wait for an opening.

"Sir, these photos, when exactly where they taken and where?" Harry asked a few moments later. He had just finished examining the pictures, and he had to admit that he was disturbed by what they are purported to be depicting. Not so much the fact that there are mages in military uniform – Harry sees that all the time, after all – but more so of the fact that one of the colored photographs showed a man that Harry was only well too familiar with.

"They were taken exactly a week ago outside the capital city of the North African League," the colonel replied. He raised one of his eyebrows towards Harry and asked, "Is something about it bothering you?"

Harry paused as he considered what answer he should give. Unsure as he was of the security classification of the colonel, he was not sure that he could give the colonel the full picture as to what he was looking at, but after a few moments, he finally said, "Prussian at the picture, colonel," before he showed the photo that had concerned him.

"Are you sure?" Colonel Carleton asked. He did not look disturbed by the revelation but Harry knew better. The man was at the forefront of the battles that the Holy Empire had participated in, Harry was sure that the colonel was only well too aware of the fact that the Holy Empire is seeking justification to go to war with the Prussian Empire, just as the Prussian Empire is seeking justification to go to war with the Holy Empire on their own.

"Positive as to the identity of the person on the photograph, sir, but not as to the reason that he is there, though if the asset caught him in this picture, I do not imagine that he was there for sightseeing," Harry replied.

"Agreed," Colonel Carleton replied. He paused for a few moments, but before Harry could say anything, the battalion commander made his decision, "The General-Admiral should be informed right away."

"Sir," Harry suddenly said, "I…"

Colonel Carleton shook his head, "No, Lieutenant," he said, "You, Lieutenant Richardson and the rest of his unit are already scheduled to head out, tonight, so you could begin operations in the front as soon as possible," he glanced toward the photo and added, "And if the Prussians are indeed backing this mage unit of the North African League, we would need all the intelligence we could get our hands on."

**Kottelberg Castle, West Pomerania**

**Prussia**

**March 21, 2005**

There was a look of surprise on the face of the Prussian Magical Advisor the moment that he finished reading the letter that had just arrived.

He stood at one of the many verandahs that the castle had, and he turned his attention to the yonder in an attempt to pick up the small body of the messenger that had delivered the letter, but that was an exercise doomed to fail as the tiny bird was all but gone, swallowed by the twilight that was even now descending across the land.

The way that the letter arrived was unusual, but over the past few years, there was little that could surprise Lucius Malfoy. The aristocratic head of the Malfoy family reminded himself that the last thing that had happened that surprised him was the death of the Dark Lord, and since then, everything that had happened – yes, even their exile from the British Isles – had gone, if not according to plan, then at least within the scenarios that the former chief Death Eater had envisioned.

The letter that he clutched on his right hand as he made his way to his study, however, this was something that had caused the surprise because he honestly thought that this would never happen. Not so much the way that the letter was delivered – via a raven as dark as the night – but because of who the letter was claiming it was from.

'_The Dark Lord,'_ Lucius mused, fully aware that only the man that he had served under during the First Blood War would sign the letter with the initials L.V. as no one else was brazen – or stupid – enough to claim to be the Dark Lord Voldemort, not when the real one had not actually been found.

Lucius reached his study – a relatively large room that had came with the furniture now inside it when Lucius purchased his castle using most of the money that he and his family had managed to smuggle out of the British Isles, fortunately, he was able to rebuild his fortune relatively easily – and dropped like a rock on one of the cushioned easy chairs facing the fire.

The fire at the fireplace turned on automatically the moment that he sat, a result of an unspoken spell that required no wand from the caster. As Lucius began to unscramble the paper that he had on his hand, he turned his gaze toward the empty wall above the fireplace.

There used to be a portrait there, but because it was not a portrait of Lucius – it was a portrait of the family of the previous owner of the castle, before it was repossessed by the government after said owner fled the Prussian Empire, an accusation of treason behind him – the head of the Malfoy Family had the portrait removed. He planned on finding a passable painter that could make a portrait for him that Lucius could hang on the empty wall, but the arrival of this letter forced him to put that on the backburner for now.

Lucius knew that if the Dark Lord were to demand for Lucius to use his new home as the new headquarters of the Death Eaters, then the portrait would have to be taken down. The Dark Lord was strangely against such portraits and no one knew why – though Lucius thought that maybe Bellatrix does.

Still, the letter in the hand of Lucius only advised him to take advantage of the situation that had been developing at the Holy Empire, though to what ends – and how – was not explicitly stated in the letter.

Images of the things that he and his former comrades used to do during the height of the war flashed across the mind of the blond aristocrat and for a few moments, Lucius actually realized that he should be feeling sick, dirty, at even just the thought of the things that he and his comrades had done, though Lucius was not the slightest bit disturbed by the fact that he actually felt nothing, well, unless one could count the excitement and the fact that he could not wait to do it again.

The problem, Lucius knew, was the fact that the situation had changed. No longer was he Lucius Malfoy, close friend to the Minister of Magic, the man who could get away with anything in Magical Britain so long as he could pay the minister. Now he was Lucius Malfoy, close to the Kaiser, yes, but it was not as if he could pay the Kaiser to ignore any crime that Lucius might commit, especially if they would be large crimes, the one that Lucius and his comrades want to do.

Lucius shook his head, '_no," _he thought, '_we best keep our heads down for the time being and look at the situation from afar.'_

Still, if this letter truly was from the Dark Lord – and while there was no reason to believe that it was not, there was also no reason to believe that it was, the body of the Dark Lord had not been found, but he had also not shown himself for more than ten years now – then Lucius knew that it must be obeyed.

A great sigh escaped through the lips of the man as he pushed himself upright from his chair. Once more, he crumpled the paper on the surface of which the letter that purported to be from the Dark Lord with one hand before he tossed the same toward the fireplace.

It landed a few millimeters away from the fire, but that would not have mattered as the paper caught flame a few seconds later. Lucius watched it only for a few short moments, and by the time that he had turned his back and made his mind to at least contract the other dark families that had made the crossing of the channel and into Prussia with him, the paper had been turned into ash.


	17. Chapter XVII

**A/N: **I do not own Harry Potter or anything associated with it.

* * *

**SEVENTEEN**

**Northern Sahara, North African League Occupied Territory**

**Forty six kilometers west of Britannian-North African frontlines**

**March 27, 2005 **

The North African League patrol consisted of four four-wheeled drive vehicles, two of which had a mounted heavy machinegun on their roof and the other two had a small caliber anti-tank rifle swinging from an exposed mount. The patrol had fourteen men, all heavily armed with small arms that the North African League had purchased from the Soviet Union some sixty years prior to the start of the conflict.

It was not a particularly heavily armed patrol, but it was also not a lightly armed patrol, and was standard for patrolling through contested but relatively secured areas. In fact, none of the fourteen men that were part of the patrol thought it likely that they are going to be jumped by Britannian soldiers while they were conducting their patrol.

By contrast, the Britannian unit that had been observing them while hiding behind a small outcropping of rock numbered ten men, one rifle section, one heavy weapons section and two relatively junior officers who are supposed to be in command of them including one Sub-Lieutenant Harry Potter.

The small Britannian unit had chosen an outcropping of rocks perched in the perfect position where the paved road built by the Holy Empire as the occupier of Egypt veer off from a perfectly straight alley, as if avoiding the outcropping. The effect was that the patrolling trucks would at least slow down in order to negotiate the right – almost ninety degree – turn to the side. It was the perfect ambush position, and not one of the marines did not openly wonder if the road was designed to be built that way exactly as a defensive measure when Britannia planned for the highway.

Between the ten men, they have seven assault rifles, three machineguns, two of them medium, and a whole cache of fragmentation grenades that might cause some damage when used in an interior setting, and the featureless flat terrain that the unit now found them is the complete opposite of an interior setting.

Nevertheless, Lieutenant Richardson, in command of the unit that was supposed to be doing reconnaissance work deep behind enemy lines, was determined to ambush the enemy patrol, which is why the ten man unit was hiding behind the small outcropping with their personal weapons at the ready rather than trekking through an alternate route that Harry had suggested the moment that their perimeter guard had reported the approaching dust.

The ten man unit from Marine Force Recon had been inserted via parachute. One of the transport planes from the local transport squadron attached to the Eight Army had lent them a transport plane. It was the first time for Harry to jump off of a perfectly good airplane – not that he had jumped off a bad one, in any case – and it was a night jump, but Lieutenant Richardson would not have it any other way.

Harry also suspected that the marine lieutenant was not thrilled with the prospect of having Harry on his team, and that led Harry to believe that the Lieutenant would be even more angry when he learns that the mission of this unit was not to locate and destroy North African League supply caches as they had been led to believe, but rather, they are tasked with determining if there is any truth in the rumors that the North African League indeed had a mage unit on the field and, if so, where it is.

Harry turned his attention toward his right where the marine lieutenant was crouching, his elbows perched on an unstable looking rock as his hands supported the binoculars that the lieutenant had been using to mentally count down the approaching patrol. Beyond the lieutenant, in a single file, crouched the rest of the marines, and none of whom had nervous looks on their faces. On the contrary, each one of them looked as if they relished the fact that they are about to engage in a firefight.

'_It's not as if we had been ordered not to engage in a firefight,'_ Harry thought as he returned his attention on the rifle that he had been issued prior to being deployed. He would have preferred to jump into combat without the rifle, but the young officer realized that he could not very well depend on his magic alone while in the field, especially considering the fact that none of the men with him right now had been given the clearance to know about magic.

It was irritating, but Harry would have to play the part of a regular sailor for the foreseeable future. It was a good thing, however, that he had been trained on how to use this particular rifle model – and many other rifle models – when he was still studying at the Naval Academy.

At just twenty five inches long, the AR22 is the standard issue assault rifle of the Holy Empire of Britannia, with both the Imperial Ground Forces and the Imperial Fleet using them in addition to a number of other local and national law enforcement agencies all around the Holy Empire. The weapon is a bull-pup configuration assault rifle that fires a medium caliber – five point seven millimeter – bullet at around nine hundred rounds per minute sustained. Fed from a fifty-round box magazine mounted at the top of the weapon, the rifle is ergonomically designed and with spent shell casing being ejected downwards, it requires no field maintenance in order for it to be used by left-handed shooters.

The sounds of the diesel engines of the approaching patrol vehicles tore Harry out of his reverie and he focused on the present. Without being told, he pulled the charging handle of his weapon, chambering one round and aligning the same with the barrel. With that simple action, Harry was ready to fire his weapon in actual combat for the first time, but Lieutenant Richardson did not give the signal. Instead, the marine officer allowed the four patrol vehicle to actually move past the rocky outcropping where the ten of them were hidden.

For a few moments, Harry wondered if the lieutenant had changed his mind about attacking the patrol, but with a simple movement from the lieutenant, Harry instantly discounted the idea. Harry was reminded of the original plan of the lieutenant when one of the marines broke cover.

The marine in question brought himself up to full height as he stood from the outcropping – though that was not a problem with concealment since the patrol had already moved past them – with a tube mounted on his right shoulder. The marine tracked the last vehicle on the North African column for a few moments, but once he was sure that he was going to score a hit, he pressed the tiny – well, tiny compared to the size of the weapon – red button on one side of the tube.

The smoke and back blast produced when the anti-tank weapon known as the AT-6 was fired was an advertisement on the location of the man firing the weapon. It was also considerable enough that in infantry school, Britannian recruits were taught that the man firing the weapon should not only be ready to scoot after he had fired the weapon but also to make sure that there was no one behind him when he fires the same.

For all those shortcomings, however, the AT-6 is a formidable weapon in its own right. Its unguided projectile is not large enough to be able to defeat the armor of a modern main battle tank, but at eighty four millimeters, the weapon could defeat the armor of an infantry fighting vehicle or even a second rate main battle tank – such as the ones being used by the North African League. It was more than enough to turn the last patrol vehicle in the column into a fireball for a few moments before it became a blackened pile of charred metal mixed in with the acrid smell of burning flesh.

The sound of small arms fire was quick to follow the explosion of the last vehicle. The Britannian marines had three machineguns with them including two medium caliber weapons that could be used to pin down the surviving North African League soldiers. At the same time, Lieutenant Richardson and a few of the marines broke cover in order to cross the road. The lieutenant took the one light machinegun that the unit had with him and Harry was quick to realize that the lieutenant was trying to set up another firing position at the other side of the road.

The opposing soldiers, though surprised by the sudden ambush, were not amateurs. They took some time in order to recover from the surprise, but after they expended that precious time, they began to fire back. The last vehicle in the column was one of the two carrying a heavy machinegun on its roof. It would have given the North Africans an advantage with its heavy rapport and ability to suppress the small Britannian unit. They still have one of those, and though two would be better, having one is better than nothing.

It was obvious that one of the North African soldiers realized this, and said soldier quickly opened the cupola on the roof of one of the two vehicles, obviously with the intention of manning the rather large machinegun on the roof. Harry was quick to deal with him though, and the young sub-lieutenant picked off the unfortunate North African soldier with a quick three-round burst from his rifle.

The man fell forward, half of his body still inside the truck. The position meant that unless one of the men inside the truck would pull down the body, the cupola where the heavy machinegun was positioned is useless.

It was the first kill of Harry, and he found himself not even thinking about it – well, aside from the fact that he realized that it was the first man that he had killed in his lifetime. He shrugged it off to the adrenaline rush running through his body and suspected that he would be thinking about it after this firefight was over and done with. It was not something that he was particularly looking forward to though.

Harry turned his attention toward the group that Lieutenant Richardson had taken with him. The five marines had nearly made it to the ditch on the side of the road, but they had to hit the paved asphalt before they could do so when one of the North African soldiers tossed a grenade toward them from behind the door of one of the patrol vehicles. The grenade landed a few feet to the side of the fire team and exploded a few moments later. Shrapnel scythed through the air almost immediately after the grenade exploded, and Harry knew that that was the reason why Lieutenant Richardson and his marines hit the dirt.

After the explosions, however, Lieutenant Richardson was quick to exhort his men back to their feet so that they could run to the ditch on the side of the road. Harry watched as the lieutenant and his fire team practically threw themselves into the side of the road in order to avoid the lethal fusillade of bullets that were on their way.

By this time, the sounds of the North African weapons are drowning out the sounds of the Britannian weapons, though the Britannian marines are, by no means, silenced. It was just that the larger caliber of the North African guns is noisier than the relatively small caliber rounds that the Britannians were using.

They were also organizing, and Harry knew that he could not allow that to happen since it was obvious that the North African soldiers still outnumber them. In any case, Lieutenant Richardson and his fire team are now separate from the unit that Harry has and though the lieutenant had picked a perfect position in order to divide the attention of the enemy, the lieutenant and his fire team was still not ready to support.

Biting back a curse, Harry brought the stock of his assault rifle against his shoulder and joined the four men of his fire team at laying down suppressive fire against the North Africans. This does not appear to be succeeding much, however, and every now and then, Harry would hear a sharp hissing sound near him, the sound of one of the bullets fired from the guns of one of the soldiers on the other side hitting something too close for comfort to Harry.

A quick dash of movement on one side of the North African line caused Harry to turn his attention there and this time, he did curse. Four North African soldiers had detached themselves from their main firing line and one of them grabbed a hand grenade from his combat webbing. Even more disturbing was the fact that this detached fire team was setting up opposite the position of Lieutenant Richardson and his fire team who was still not up and firing.

Harry spared the man who was supposed to be commanding the unit just a second or two of concern before he returned all of his attention on the situation in front of him. at almost the exact moment that he did, Lieutenant Richardson and his fire team finally reentered the action, stomping their presence with the chainsaw sound one usually associates with the firing of a machinegun.

From his position, however, neither Lieutenant Richardson nor any other man in his fire team could see the detached North African fire team that Harry had seen. Harry watched while firing his weapon as the North African soldier that he had earlier marked pull the safety pin on his grenade. It was obvious that the man intended to toss the fragmentation grenade at the direction of Lieutenant Richardson and his fire team, though at the distances involved, the grenade would probably land in the no-mans land between the two forces.

Harry, however, had a better idea. As soon as the North African soldier pulled his right hand in preparation to toss the grenade, Harry fired a quick burst with his assault rifle. The distance involved meant that the man was actually just a few milliseconds away from letting the grenade fly, but he was too late.

He grunted in pain as his knees gave way, and the grenade – with its safety pin pulled out of the firing mechanism – was still in his hand. Even a post-battle autopsy would not be able to identify properly where the rounds from the rifle of Harry hit the man, because just a second or two after he fell to the ground, the grenade in his hand exploded, causing shrapnel to scythe through the air around him.

Two of the remaining three men in the detached unit died five seconds after the explosion as a result of the shrapnel, while the remaining one other was wounded and also fell to his feet before another quick burst from the assault rifle of Harry ended his suffering.

Unsure of how many men were left in the ranks of the other side, Harry returned his attention toward the direction of the main body of the North African soldiers. By this time, the North Africans were hunkering down behind their vehicles, occasionally venturing from their cover for three to four seconds in order to fire a quick burst with their assault rifles before hunkering back down. It was obvious that they had switched tactics when their detached fire team was destroyed. Their method of firing, however, meant that they could not hit a barn side, but it advertised the tactic that the North Africans had decided to use.

Aside from conserving their ammunition as they are only firing a quick burst and even then, infrequently, the North Africans were obviously waiting for reinforcements. They may have summoned them via radio or the reinforcements might be another patrol heading their way, either way, Harry knew that they could not let the enemy reinforcements reach them before they finish this encounter.

A good one hundred feet away from where Harry and his fire support team were still firing at the direction of the North Africans, Lieutenant Richardson agreed, but he could not communicate his intention to attack as he has no radio – after all, his unit only has one radio and while he has it, Harry and the fire support team does not have one.

Biting back a curse, the lieutenant decided that he does not have a choice, though he did say a quick prayer and hope that Harry would get what he wanted to get without being told of it. The Force Recon officer does not trust Harry, at least, not when it comes to this. With no other options available, however, and with time running out – though he does not know how fast that time would run out – he was forced to make a decision.

"Stay here and provide covering fire, just in case," Lieutenant Richardson instructed the marine who was operating the squad automatic weapon. The marine private nodded his acknowledgement of the order at the same time that he fired a quick burst toward the direction of the North Africans. It was not meant to hit anybody, rather, it was meant to ensure that the North African League soldiers stay hunkering behind their vehicles.

The heavy sound of the medium caliber machineguns from the position of the fire support team was also encouraging.

"Let's hope the sub-lieutenant and the support team keeps the enemy hunkering down long enough for us to get into position," Lieutenant Richardson said. He quickly signaled to the three other men in the fire team to follow him before he advanced forward slowly, using the ditch as a means of concealment to cover the movement of him and his men.

Harry was quick to see the plan of Lieutenant Richardson even though he was not told of it. Harry had seen the lieutenant – purely by accident – as the lieutenant led his men forward. This was despite the fact that the lieutenant and his people tried to remain concealed behind the ditch. It just so happened that the lieutenant crouched too high at one point while he was creeping up and Harry saw that.

"Okay," Harry said. He turned toward his machinegun operators and said, "the lieutenant is planning something, let's keep the other side hunkering down behind their trucks long enough for the lieutenant to spring whatever it is that he is planning on doing."

"You already know what he is planning to do, don't you, sir?" one of the marines asked Harry before the steady beat of the machinegun drowned out any sound in the area.

Harry did not nod, because while he suspected what the lieutenant was planning, he was not actually sure. From the way that the lieutenant was moving, Harry guessed that the man had two options. He could move closer toward the North Africans and lob a few grenades at them then mop up the remaining resistance or the lieutenant could opt for the suicide approach and actually charge the North Africans with gun blazing.

Having been assigned to this unit just a few days prior to this deployment, Harry was not sure of the real personality of the marine force recon commander, though Harry was going to bet that the lieutenant would chose the latter option.

Harry was quickly proven right when not even three minutes later, Lieutenant Richardson and three other Britannian marines emerged from behind the ditch with their guns blazing. The position of the ditch meant that the lieutenant was perpendicular to where the North Africans are, and because of the heavy fire coming from the position of Harry, the North Africans were focused there, completely missing the fact that a detached force of Britannian marines had already moved behind them.

After that, it did not even take five minutes for Lieutenant Richardson and his marines to mop up.

**Temporary Headquarters, Imperial Grand Fleet**

**Gibraltar, Holy Empire of Britannia**

**March 27, 2005**

Admiral Cline returned the salute that the sailor that was on guard at the door offered him, but the chief-of-staff of Lord Alexander actually paused for a few moments before he nodded to the other guard to open the double doors enough to allow Admiral Cline to pass through.

The chief-of-staff carried with him a brown manila envelope that their intelligence people had given to him just ten minutes prior. Inside the envelope, Admiral Cline could confirm the intelligence that the Prussian Empire is, at the very least, aware of the existence of the North African League mage corps, though Admiral Cline was prepared to bet that the intelligence could further be refined to provide undoubted proof that the Prussians instigated that corps.

Admiral Cline stepped across the threshold and into the relatively large room, though hall would probably be a more apt term for it. Built to colonial standards, the hall was the centerpiece of the colonial building located just a kilometer away from the waters of the Straits of Gibraltar that Lord Alexander had chosen as the temporary headquarters of the Grand Fleet. No one, not even Admiral Cline himself, knew when Lord Alexander intends to make the headquarters permanent, or even if the General-Admiral intended for the building to be the headquarters at all.

That, however, was not the reason that Admiral Cline was here, and was disturbing a planning session that he was not supposed to be a part of because despite his high rank, Admiral Cline is technically outside the chain of command of the Grand Fleet.

Admiral Cline could see everyone inside the room, the senior officers of the fleet – minus the officers who had to be left behind in the British Isles to cover Britain in the absence of Lord Alexander and the majority of the fleet – and they are huddled with each other near a table, with Lord Alexander at the head of the table. From this distance, it was not easy for Admiral Cline to actually hear what the General-Admiral was saying – or to actually see what was on the surface of the table where the officers are gathered – but he suspected that it may have something to do with the operations of the Grand Fleet in the coming days.

Already, the Grand Fleet had initiated a series of patrols using their cruisers into the Mediterranean, and though the patrols are originally meant to be a show of force, the cruisers have been encountering – mostly civilian, though – North African League traffic and dealing with them. The patrolling cruisers had also turned back more than two dozen Prussian ships that are attempting to enter the North African League, though because of neutrality laws, the fleet could not confirm the suspicions of Lord Alexander that the Prussians are supplying the North Africans.

The patrols do keep the cruisers at their toes and Admiral Cline could identify the three cruiser commanders of the Grand Fleet – Admiral Cyrus Brendan, commander of the Grand Fleet's armored cruiser divisions, Admiral Adrian Byron, commander of the heavy cruisers, and Admiral Jonathan Philip Chadwick, commander of the light cruisers – closest to Lord Alexander.

Still, every senior commander in the Grand Fleet was conferring with their General-Admiral, and that could only mean that Lord Alexander is planning a major move with the majority of the ships of his fleet. With the nearest North African League position just across the straits, a quick strike could be the order for the day, though with the intelligence that Admiral Cline was about to give the General-Admiral, perhaps even that quick strike would have to be postponed so that the High Admiral could reevaluate his options.

Admiral Cline resumed his walk toward where the senior officers of the fleet had gathered, and as he approached, not only did the topic of the conversation became clearer to the chief-of-staff of Lord Alexander, the suspicion of Admiral Cline as to what was on the surface of the table where the senior officers are huddled together became clearer.

With more than twenty five years experience as a navy officer, and with ten of those as chief-of-staff to Lord Alexander, Admiral Cline could easily identify the markers that were on the map, and from the way that the markers were positioned, the suspicion of Admiral Cline was verified. Lord Alexander was planning something big, and he had the appropriate markings for his battleship and battlecruiser divisions – the strongest element of his fleet – on the map to prove it.

The General-Admiral also appeared to be enthusiastic about the plan, and he was animated as he continued to explain his plan of attack, but Admiral Cline decided to interrupt that. Snapping his heels together and causing a sound as his dress shoes hit each other, Admiral Cline brought himself up to full attention before he saluted a second later.

The sound of the traditional salute caused Lord Alexander – indeed, all of the senior officers of the fleet – to turn his attention toward the direction of the sound. The sight of his chief-of-staff behind him caused the Archduke of England to momentarily close his eyes and shake his head, but Lord Alexander knew that Admiral Cline would not dare disturb this planning session – even though he had been invited to join the planning session but refused the request on account of technicalities – for no reason.

If it had been otherwise, Lord Alexander would have long replaced him with someone far more competent.

"Admiral Cline," Lord Alexander said, he casually returned the salute of his chief-of-staff though did so in such a way that still advertised the fact that the High Admiral is a career military officer, "I am assuming that this is not a social call?"

"Hardly, sir," Admiral Cline replied. He paused for a few moments in order to use his peripheral vision to confirm that the only ones in the hall are the senior commanders of the fleet – those who automatically have clearance to the intelligence that Admiral Cline was about to present – and once he was sure of that fact, he returned his full attention toward Lord Alexander and said at the same time that he handed the envelope to Lord Alexander, "We have credible proof that the Prussian Empire is, at the least, aware of the existence of the North African League mage corps, though this evidence would seem to suggest that they are part of its inception, at worst, this intelligence would indicate that the Prussians were the ones who asked the North African League to make the North African unit in the first place."

Lord Alexander had a look on his face that few men had seen there before, and only those who had truly served with the man would know the look on his face. Admiral Cline – as well as a handful of the men that were in the room with them – was one of those who were well aware of what the look on the face of Lord Alexander meant.

The General-Admiral was disturbed by the intelligence that his chief-of-staff had just delivered, but if Admiral Cline was being honest with himself, that was the reason that he had delivered the intelligence in the first place.

Lord Alexander opened the envelope the moment that he relieved it from the hand of Admiral Cline, but the General-Admiral did not yet took the pieces of intelligence inside the envelope, rather, he had his attention toward Admiral Cline and he asked, "Who else knows about this?"

"Intelligence and the two men who had sent the photos to them and instigated this whole thing," Admiral Cline replied, and at the unspoken question of Lord Alexander – '_who were the men who had instigated this whole thing?'_ – Admiral Cline added, "Colonel Carleton and Sub-Lieutenant Potter, sir."

"Harry is not going to up-channel this unless he is sure of what he had seen," Lord Alexander said. This time, the Archduke did take the photos out of the envelope. To him, there was nothing out of the ordinary, until his gaze turned toward one of the men that was in the picture. It helped that intelligence – or someone – had used a red marker to encircle the man.

Over the years, the number of immigrants and emigrants – as well as naturalization and other process to acquire citizenship – had diluted the gene pool of every country in the world. It was no longer possible to ascertain the nationality of a person based on how he looks, but the man that had his figure encircled in the picture was undoubtedly Prussian.

Not only did his uniform give him away, Lord Alexander realized that he had seen the man before, and at that, his mind returned to ten years ago at a castle in Scotland where the children of suspected magical separatist – '_really, suspected?'_ Lord Alexander thought, '_they fled the British Isles, is that not enough evidence to prove that they are separatist?'_ – had threatened him and his wife with their wands before the Oath forced them to stand down.

"One of their numbers was killed that day," Lord Alexander commented, it was a comment that caught some of his officers by surprise, but a comment that caused Admiral Cline to nod.

"A Gregory Goyle, I believe, sir," Admiral Cline replied, before he added in response to the surprised look on the face of Lord Alexander, "I checked the reports and files that we had when I realized that I had seen this man before, sir."

"Just because they threatened me and Lady Emma before does not make them Prussian, Admiral Cline," Lord Alexander said. He flipped through the next photo in the series and found the familiar man standing on top of an elevated platform, evidently watching maneuvers, "What we do know is that Dumbledore and his cohorts fled to the Scandinavian Union, this lot may as well have fled there."

Admiral Cline understood that Lord Alexander was not doubting his intelligence, what the General-Admiral was doing was covering his bases, and asking the questions that Admiral Cline knew almost every senior officer of the fleet wanted to ask.

Admiral Cline was sure of that because the man in the picture was wearing the uniform of a Prussian _Kaiserliche Marine _commander. The other officers in the room could not see the picture.

"The uniform, sir," Admiral Cline replied, "Is the standard uniform of a Prussian commander, in fact, sir," the admiral added, "In the next photograph, he is facing the camera, please note the insignia on his left breast pocket."

Lord Alexander turned to the next picture and nodded, "Teutonic Knight," Lord Alexander said. That alone would have identified the man as Prussian. Of course, it would also seem to confirm the earlier allegation that the Prussians organized the North African mage corps.

For decades, Britannian Intelligence has speculated that the Teutonic Knights not only perform the same duties as the Britannian Imperial Knights, they are also the same as the Imperial Knights, meaning, their ranks are actually recruited from mages that are part of their military.

"I would need to speak with Colonel Carleton, Sub-Lieutenant Potter, and the man who had taken these pictures," Lord Alexander suddenly said before he stuffed the photographs back into the envelope, "I would have wanted Hermione to confirm since she went to school with this man but she and Emma are supposed to be meeting with the Spanish Foreign Minister and could not be disturbed," he shook his head, "Ready the _Iron Duke _and his escorts, I would be travelling to the front."

"Sir..," Admiral Dalton suddenly said.

Lord Alexander silenced him with a single motion of his hand, "I am in command of the theater and I am yet to see the front," he said, "This is the perfect opportunity for the same."

"In my absence," Lord Alexander continued, "Admiral Dalton, per our hierarchy, you have command of the fleet in Gibraltar in my absence, but the standing cruiser patrols are to be maintained," he smiled slightly, before he added, "Specially now when we may have enough evidence to drag the Prussian Empire into this mess we are dealing with."

**Northern Sahara, North African League Occupied Territory**

**Approximately Sixty kilometers west of Britannian-North African frontlines**

**March 27, 2005 **

The supply dump was located in the middle of nowhere but Harry supposed that the fact that is located in the middle of nowhere was the reason that this site was chosen in the first place. Reconnaissance over flights would have spotted the dump, so Harry was forced to conclude that the North Africans did not intend to keep this one particular dump up and running indefinitely.

After a brief firefight with the North African soldiers defending the dump – and it was a brief one, the seemingly new recruits started throwing their weapons and running away the moment that they realized that the Britannians had taken the vehicles of one of their patrolling columns and was now firing at them – Harry and the marine force recon team was easily able to deal with the padlocks and the chains that kept the precious supplies in the crates away from the hands of marauders and the soldiers sent to guard them who would most likely be the first ones to steal them.

The contents of the crates were actually one of the reasons why Harry and Lieutenant Richardson came to the conclusion that the dump was probably going to be emptied soon. The crates contained mostly perishable supplies, ready-to-eat meals accounting for most of the crates, though there are a few crates of bullets, extra fuel cans – mostly unfilled – and some medical supplies. Even more importantly for Harry and the rest of the team, there are some crates that contained explosives, the kind that Britannian behind-the-lines unit are trained to exploit and use for scenarios such as this.

The moment that Harry opened the crates containing the explosives, Lieutenant Richardson had directed his men to start setting them up in and around the perimeter of the supply dump so that they could be used to destroy the concentration of supplies. In the grand scheme of things, destroying this one supply dump would probably not even put a dent in the logistics train of the North African League, but it would still probably be a factor for morale.

Harry and Lieutenant Richardson knew how badly they needed a morale booster at that point, with the forward units of the Eight Army still reeling back from the lightning strikes conducted by the North African League during the first few days of the war. The front had mostly stabilized by now, but having that front held by weakly motivated soldiers could prove to be fatal to the course of the developing war.

While the marines set up the explosives, Harry wandered around the supply dump, trying to concentrate enough to discern if there had been any mages in the area, though the young naval officer seriously doubted that he would find a ping. For one thing, this seemed to be a place as random as any, and for another, he was not actually using his wand to do the job, rather, he had to make do with using his – admittedly – rather good mind skills.

Harry actually heard the footsteps of the approaching marine, but he thought that the man was just rushing back in order to get more explosives. It was not until the man actually spoke that Harry broke his concentration, "Lieutenant," the marine enlisted man said, forcing Harry to turn his attention toward the man with a questioning expression on his face, "LT wants to see you, sir."

Harry nodded at the same time that he unstrapped his rifle from his shoulder. He had slung the assault rifle behind his shoulder the moment that he started walking around the camp because he thought that he would need both hands. When he realized that he could not pull out his wand and not make a scene with the marines, Harry did not even bother to take his rifle back into his hands. He was pretty sure that Lieutenant Richardson was going to make a big deal out of it, after all, the marines live with the credo, 'Every Marine a Rifleman,' with the lieutenant conveniently forgetting the fact that Harry is not a marine.

For a few moments, Harry thought about casting the memory charm on the man – and the enlisted man run toward the direction of where the explosives were, so Harry supposed that the private was actually going to make a run for more explosives before his commanding officer caught up with him – but decided against it. Harry was not sure if he could actually do the memory charm without erasing anything important, and with everything that has been happening, Harry feared that he might erase the knowledge of the marine on how to use North African standard explosives.

Harry found the marine lieutenant inspecting a couple of trucks by the motor pool of the supply dump, and Harry wondered what the man was doing there. When Lieutenant Richardson saw Harry approaching, he waved for the lower-ranking officer to join him, but he did not even bother to wait before he announced his intentions, "I was thinking of taking one of these trucks to make our getaway back to our frontlines," he said.

Harry thought about the suggestion, and though he could not see why the lieutenant would want a new transport, he nodded.

The two patrol vehicles – high mobility vehicles as they are known in Britannia – that brought the marine patrol to his base were still functioning the last time that Harry had checked them. Small but agile and fast, those patrol vehicles could not carry the entire patrol which is the reason why the marines liberated two of them before torching the other one using the grenades of the North African soldiers that the patrol had ambushed earlier.

The truck that the lieutenant was referring to, however, was bigger. Although it would take a negative effect on the agility of the vehicle, it could carry the entire patrol, and it looked as if the truck was also more heavily armed, with two machineguns mounted on it, one on a ring above the cab and another at the cab itself, operated by the person riding shotgun.

"I'll make sure that the tanks are fully loaded and that we would have additional fuel cans in the back just in case," Harry said.

"I've already asked….," the lieutenant began, though before he could finish whatever it was that he wanted to say, he was cut off by an explosion at the far end of the perimeter of the supply dump.

"Explosive detonation?" the lieutenant asked as he and Harry stared toward the direction of where the explosion came from. It was a logical explanation, and Harry was about to silently agree that one of the marines made a mistake and set up the timer on the charges too early. At that moment, however, he caught whiff of a certain something in the air, and the wind was blowing from the direction of where the explosion came from.

"No," Harry said grimly at the same time that he mentally cursed. His mission was to look for the North African mage corps, not the other way around, though it would now seem that the other way around had happened. The North Africans had found him instead of the other way around. The wind carried with it the faintest hint of magic, but Harry was well trained in both the magical division of Olympia Academy and with the Imperial Knights Corps to be able to detect even the faintest hint of expanded magical energy.

The curse that tried – and failed – to escape from the lips of Harry was the result of the realization of the twenty five year old naval officer that he could not fight the North African mages – and he was sure that there was more than one – effectively. Not when the marines of marine force recon are with him.

He would have to find a way to fight back the North African mages, and Harry was sure that the assault rifle that was on his hand was not going to be of much assistance.

Harry realized that he must have looked as if he was stunned by the sudden explosion as he just stood there and silently debated with himself as to his options. He, however, did not even bother to shake himself awake as he turned his attention toward the direction of the explosion. He could see that Lieutenant Richardson had already ordered the two marines who were near them at that moment to accompany him as he charged toward the direction of the explosion.

Frowning slightly – though he was careful that the neither the lieutenant nor the marines would notice, Harry followed them.

There was a breach in the perimeter fence that marked the supply dump, and two of the marines of Lieutenant Richardson lay sprawled on the sandy floor, unconscious from the explosion and, from the look of things, injured.

Of the North African mages that caused the explosion, Harry could detect them from within the perimeter of the dump, but his eyes could not see them, '_Invisibility cloak?' _Harry thought, '_disillusionment charm?'_

Harry concluded that it was probably the latter rather than the former. Not only are invisibility cloaks as rare in North Africa as they are in the British Isles – perhaps more so because North Africa has no native magical creature that could provide the raw materials required to make the cloak – they would also be ineffective in a situation such as this where there is an abundance of dust in the air.

'_Yet I should have seen faint outlines,'_ Harry thought. He was about to turn his attention on the opposite direction when a flash of red light came streaking toward him. His eyes widened in surprise at the same time that he threw himself to the side. A loud explosion followed, originating from where the jet of red light hit a crate.

His mind working overtime, Harry did not even bother to curse as he brought his rifle to bear toward the direction where the spell fire – and he was sure that it was spell fire, though he was not sure what kind of spell it was – came from. A small part of the mind of Harry told him that he should be using his magic instead of relying with the kinetic power of subsonic armor-piercing rounds, but by the time that that thought reached the true center of the mind of Harry, he had already pulled the trigger of his rifle.

In any case, the burst fire was not meant to hit anything, it was just meant as a form of defiance, so Harry was surprised when there was a sudden grunt that came from the direction where the spell fire came from, followed by blood suddenly flowing from nowhere.

'_Well, it appears that even if you have disillusioned yourself, your blood still retains the color red,'_ Harry thought. The injured North African mage must have noticed that as well, because he quickly cancelled his disillusionment charm – and Lieutenant Richardson and his conscious marines let out a collective breath of shock at the sudden appearance of a man that was not there moments before – before firing a barrage of spells toward Harry.

The first mage was quickly joined by a second who had also deactivated his disillusionment charm. The appearance of two mages, of course, does not mean that there are only two mages in the area, but Harry could be reasonably certain that at the least, if there are other mages in the dump, they would not be able to attack the Britannians from the rear, not while disillusioned at least, because then their own comrades would not be able to see them and thus, risk being hit by friendly fire.

Any further thoughts on the part of Harry had to be curtailed, however, because at that moment, the North Africans began firing back, and this time, they are firing jets of green light, the tell-tale sign of the killing curse.

'_They tried to stun us first because they want to capture us,'_ Harry thought as he motioned for the marines to take cover, '_now that we know who and what they are, they are not going to leave behind any survivors, which means that they also would not be willing to retreat because they have to maintain the statute of secrecy.'_

Harry knew that he too would have to maintain the statute, but at that moment, he really did not think that he could. In any case, he was certain that even if Lieutenant Richardson and the other marines were to see him use his magic, he could always just inform them that what they had noticed is classified.

Turning his attention toward where Lieutenant Richardson and the marines had taken cover, Harry could easily discern the confused expression on the face of the marines. It looked almost comical next to their determined expression. The expression on the face of Lieutenant Richardson as he tried to revive the two unconscious marines that he and another marine had dragged with them as they took cover also made the marine commanding officer looked more comical than his subordinates.

'_Yeah, that could work,'_ Harry thought as he grabbed his one remaining fragmentation grenade. With an economy of movement, he removed the safety pin on the can that kept the explosive contained before he tossed it toward the direction of where the two North African mages had taken cover.

Apparently, however, the North African mages are as well aware of non-magical weaponry as they are of magical. It was also obvious that the North African mages are well trained because just as the grenade that Harry tossed arched through the air, it was hit by a jet of red light that came from the position of the two North African mages.

Magic and non-magic are capable of being mixed, but it would take a few minutes – at the least – of preparation. The grenade that Harry tossed had not gone under that and as a result, it exploded in mid-air even before it could hit the ground and caused the kind of damage that it was designed to deal.

Harry, however, expected that. The explosion of the grenade caused black smoke that enveloped the area between where the North African mages are and where Harry and the rest of the team had taken cover. Harry took advantage of the smoke, using it as makeshift cover, he pushed himself up to his feet and charged through the kill zone, covering the fifteen feet that separated the two fighting sides in five seconds.

Harry had expected the North African mages to turn their attention away from the explosion, but he was prepared had that not been the case. All of the preparation, however, turned out to be for naught because the North African mages had turned their attention away from the explosion.

Taking advantage of that fact, Harry easily identified the North African mage that he had shot. With a quick burst from his assault rifle, he ended the suffering of the man.

The other mage was stunned by the move, and Harry also took advantage of that. The young naval officer spun on his heel and by the time that he was once more facing toward the direction of the North African mage, he had his rifle raised high above him, just next to his head.

The requirements of the comfort of the men firing the rifle had necessitated the installation of a cushion on the stock of the AR22, but it could still be used to stun an enemy when used properly. That was exactly what Harry did, or at least, tried to do.

He brought the stock of his rifle hard on the brow of the North African mage, but though the man was obviously hit hard, he remained conscious. Rather than risking another attack like the first one – and giving the North African mage the chance to retake the initiative, Harry quickly drew his wand.

"Stupefy," he intoned. The jet of red light hit the North African mage between his eyes, and those eyeballs promptly rolled up, signifying that the mage was unconscious.

"What the hell just happened?" Lieutenant Richardson suddenly asked even before Harry could let out a sigh of relief.

The young naval officer turned his attention toward the direction of Lieutenant Richardson and mentally cringed when he saw the marine lieutenant staring at him with the other still conscious marines, the look on their face, a look that signaled that they really wanted some answers at that moment.


	18. Chapter XVIII

**A/N: **I do not own Harry Potter or anything associated with it.

* * *

**EIGHTEEN**

**Northern Sahara, North African League Occupied Territory**

**Approximately Sixty kilometers west of Britannian-North African frontlines**

**March 27, 2005 **

'_This is not going to end well,'_ Harry thought as he dragged the unconscious North African mage away from where Harry had earlier shot his comrade. The marines that had accompanied Harry stared at him without even bothering to close their mouths, and their commanding officer was not helping in restoring discipline amongst the ranks because Lieutenant Richardson was actually the one that was staring at Harry with the widest open mouthed expression.

Harry ignored them, however as he conjured rope out of thin air. He had no doubt that the marines have more questions now that he had seen him perform magic again, but for Harry, that neither here nor there, and besides, he had far more important things that he needed to worry about, chief of which was the mage who, while unconscious in front of him, was a dangerous adversary when facing non-magical marines.

Harry was well aware of the fact that the North African mage had been knocked out, but the man was knocked out using a stunner fired by Harry, and while the twenty five year old was reasonably confident with his power and abilities, Harry was not sure just how powerful the man that he had stunned was. It could be that the man was about to recover consciousness, or it could be that the man would not be waking up anytime soon. Either way, it would all depend on his the magical reserves of his opponent.

"Lieutenant," Harry said a few moments later. He had finished tying the hands of the unconscious North African mage together and behind the back of the man. Harry turned his attention toward the commander of the patrol that he was sent in with and continued, "Secure the perimeter would you? And prepare to withdraw back to our lines."

Lieutenant Richardson actually thought to countermand the orders of Harry, and he was about to do so, reminding Harry that he was still in command of the unit despite the light show that Harry had just exhibited and the skills that he had shown when he took down the enemy mage.

Two things, however, made Lieutenant Richardson change his mind. The first was the fact that the _suggestions_ of Harry made sense to the marine commander. There was no telling how many North Africans are left in the vicinity, and if there are more like the two that Lieutenant Potter had just taken out, then he and his marines may find themselves in a world of hurt. There was no point in staying here, not when they had already set the dump to detonate and not when they do not have any idea what kind of enemy they are fighting against.

The second – and more important – reason that the Lieutenant stopped was the fact that Harry showed him a pin. It was the kind that was pinned on the dress or battle uniform of a soldier, but the pin that Harry had shown the marine lieutenant was not pinned on the uniform of Harry, rather, Harry had retrieved it from one of the breast pockets of his battle uniform. It was also a pin that was so widely recognizable, yet would never be actually seen on the battlefield under normal circumstances, unless the unit had been ordered deployed by their colonel-in-chief, whoever it is that is seated at the Golden Throne.

In practice, the golden crown with three red ruby insignia of the Imperial Knights Corps would never see combat unless they have been ordered deployed by the person seated on the Golden Throne. Whatever else may be the case though, an officer of the Imperial Knight Corps could order officers higher in rank than him, unless said officer is a staff-grade officer or higher. Lieutenant Richardson is not a staff-grade officer; in fact, he is a junior-grade officer.

Trained to follow orders, Lieutenant Richardson could only nod his acknowledgement of the instructions of Harry. He quickly detailed his remaining men into securing the compound at the same time that he ordered them to locate the others. Currently, there were six marines with Lieutenant Richardson, including the marine officer.

Once he was finished with giving instructions to his men, the marine lieutenant approached Harry who was by now conjuring more rope so that he could tie the feet of the unconscious North African mage. The marine lieutenant quickly assisted Harry with the task, but even as Harry looped the rope that he had conjured around the ankles of the North African mage – he had gotten rid of the boots, just in case – Lieutenant Richardson asked, "What the hell was that?"

Harry turned his attention toward the marine lieutenant and for a few moments, he just stared at him. He wondered about the propriety of telling Lieutenant Richardson that what he had just witnessed was something that the lieutenant should not concern himself with because when they get back to base, the lieutenant would have been ordered by his own superiors to forget everything that he had seen, but Harry discounted that option a few moments after he thought about it.

For one thing, the lieutenant and his men risked their lives – and from the look of things, some of the men had given their lives – to bring Harry here. In any case, even if Harry were to tell the lieutenant everything, Lieutenant Richardson would still be ordered to forget everything by his own superiors, at the least. Harry was not ruling out Imperial Knights coming in to obliviate the lieutenant and every marine that would survive this encounter.

"That was my mission, Lieutenant," Harry said. He quickly conjured another set of rope and used it to pin the hands of the unconscious mage to his side. Lieutenant Richardson was only all too glad to help, so long as Harry was explaining things to him, "We have received intelligence that the North Africans are in the process of making a unit exclusively composed of men that have a special ability," Harry continued, "I have been ordered into the country to confirm these reports"

"This mission?" Lieutenant Richardson asked. He quickly double checked the knot that Harry had used to tie the unconscious enemy combatant and gave a nod to Harry to signal that the rope was secure.

Harry shook his head, "This mission was supposed to be for me to find a way to confirm these repots," Harry said, "Colonel Carleton placed me in your unit because he said you are the best and because you are heading out anyway to do a reconnaissance operation and a little sabotage behind enemy lines," Harry shrugged before he added, "I guess that colonel though I could pick some intelligence while we are out, and I guess he was right," as he motioned toward the unconscious – and thoroughly tied – North African mage.

"What are you going to do with him?" Lieutenant Richardson asked.

"His fate is up to the interrogators back at our lines," Harry admitted, "We have special interrogators waiting for him, and whether he lives or dies would depend on the amount of information that he is willing to give."

"We're dragging him with us?" Lieutenant Richardson asked, and when Harry nodded, the marine lieutenant added, "Well, I guess that he is not match of a threat when he is knocked out, but what happens when he wakes up? Are you sure that those ropes would be enough to curtail him? I mean, you said it yourself, he has a special ability."

'_The man has a point,'_ Harry though, '_fortunately, I have the right equipment with me,'_

Harry quickly produced a golden pendant which he placed around the neck of the unconscious mage, "This is a power suppressor," Harry explained, "While it is in contact with him, his magic would be suppressed to the point that he would not be able to depend on it in any escape."

Harry saw Lieutenant Richardson nod, but the young navy officer did not need legilimancy in order to know that the marine officer does not have that much faith with what Harry had just said.

Watching Lieutenant Richardson as the marine officer turned away in order to confer with one of his marines that was just approaching them at a dead run, Harry realized that he really could not blame the marine for that attitude. He and his men had just witnessed a magical duel – albeit one that is rather short and probably a fight that is not fair. Harry was certain that the only reason that the Lieutenant was not freaking out was because the man is a marine, and Harry knew for certain that the only reason that the other marines are not freaking out and demanding for his head is because Lieutenant Richardson is in command.

'_Now all that is left is to take the captured mage back to base and hand him over to the mind-readers,'_ Harry thought. He stood and cast a levitation charm on the man – '_there is no need for me to hide my magic anymore, and if there is no need to hide, I am not going to drag this man without resorting to magic' _– and sent the man barreling toward the direction of the motor pool.

At the same time, Harry checked the magazine of his rifle, and upon finding it empty, he quickly replaced it with a fresh fifty round magazine.

'_We're probably not that far away from the frontlines,'_ Harry thought, '_if they have a supply dump here…'_

Any further thoughts from Harry were promptly interrupted when he heard Lieutenant Richardson calling for him. The young naval officer turned his attention toward the direction where the sound was coming from and saw the marine officer waving toward Harry and asking him to come over.

Harry fought the urge to sigh before he turned toward the direction of where the marine officer stood together with one of his enlisted men. Harry recognized the corporal as one of those that Lieutenant Richardson had sent to locate the other marines, and for a brief few moments, Harry felt cold inside. He was certain that he was about to be informed that some of the marines have been killed, but it passed on quickly enough after Harry reminded himself that they are at war right now, and people will die.

"We have missing men," Lieutenant Richardson said without preamble. Harry could only nod because at that moment, he wondered what that had to do with him, but then the young naval officer realized that Lieutenant Richardson intended to search for his missing men.

Lieutenant Richardson turned his attention away from Harry and toward the marine corporal that stood with him, though before Lieutenant Richardson could say anything, Harry injected himself back into the conversation.

"Lieutenant…," Harry began, but then he paused just as the lieutenant returned his attention toward Harry. If the marines are missing, then that means someone had taken them, and from the fact that they had been attacked by North African mages, then it stands to reason that the kidnappers are North African mages, which means that Harry has to hunt them down.

Of course, it is possible that the kidnappers are regular North African soldiers, but that would mean more of a problem because Harry was not sure if the missing marines had seen him perform magic. If they had, those marines may be forced to reveal what they had witnessed to their captors and that would open a messier can of worms.

Either way, Harry realized that he would have no choice but to agree with the unspoken decision of Lieutenant Richardson to search for the missing marines.

"Lieutenant Potter?" the voice of Lieutenant Richardson shook Harry out of his reverie. There was a questioning look on the face of the marine officer, but Harry shook his head.

"Do we know which direction we should start looking?" Harry asked.

Again, Harry did not need to use legilimancy in order to know that the marine officer was surprised by the fact that Harry not only was not offering protest to the decision, but also appear to be more than willing to assist in the search.

**Aboard **_**HMS Iron Duke**__, _**Supreme Fleet Flagship, Imperial Britannian Grand Fleet**

**En Route to Port of Sidi Barrani, Egypt, from Gibraltar, Mediterranean Sea**

**March 27, 2005**

The wind blowing from the north to the south pushed the black smoke billowing from the funnels of the five Britannian battleships travelling in a single column eastward. The direction that the wind was blowing meant that the ships following the lead ship did not need to contend with the smoke billowing out of the ships to the front, allowing the crew of those ships to see ahead of them in the clear.

It also meant that the crew of the ship at the front of the line could look back and see the perfect line formed by the five battleships.

Lord Alexander was one of the few men aboard his flagship that actually has the luxury of stepping out of the superstructure of the mighty warship and looking westward toward the bow of the ships that make up the rest of the strength of his personal battleship division.

With their flags billowing resplendent in the wind and with their perfect formation, the five mighty battlewagons must look as if they are in some stately formation to a person who was observing them from the ground, quite ironic considering that even in such a configuration, this particular division was probably the most powerful battleship division in the entire of the Grand Fleet, and because the Grand Fleet is the most powerful fleet in the Holy Empire, it stands to reason that this division is the most powerful division of battleships in the whole world.

A small smile graced the face of Lord Alexander as he thought about that. _HMS Iron Duke_has four escorts, and all of them are from the _Hermione—_class of battleships. No other battleship division in the world, Britannian or otherwise, is composed of a single ship with twelve twenty-inch guns escorted by four warships carrying twelve eighteen-inch guns each.

Mostly because no other navy in the world – '_not the Prussians, not the Soviets, not the Japanese, not the South Americans, and certainly the North Africans,'_ Lord Alexander thought – have the capacity to field twenty inch guns aboard their warships.

Powerful as the 9th Battleship Division – the personal division of Lord Alexander – was, the division was not alone. Trailing slightly behind and about four kilometers to the south of the battleship division of Lord Alexander, the four light cruisers of the 9th Light Cruiser Squadron trailed behind, ready to provide support should it prove needed. Eight kilometers ahead of the 9th Battleship division of Lord Alexander are the five battlecruisers of the 1st Battlecruiser division of Vice Admiral Lawrence Forlani, led by his flagship, _HMS Lancelot_.

Tasked with making sure that the path ahead is clear, Vice Admiral Forlani would most likely engage any North African ships that he would come across before reporting them. After all, the North Africans have no ship capable of actually equaling the battlecruisers of Vice Admiral Forlani, never mind the battleships of Lord Alexander.

Another smile came across the face of Lord Alexander when he considered that another of his senior officers had tried – screaming and begging – to be allowed to come with him for this slight incursion, but Lord Alexander vetoed the request of Admiral Cornwallis on the ground that while Admiral Cornwallis only had two ships in his division, both of those ships are aircraft carriers that would require their own escorts. Such a deployment is not possible given that most of the escorts of the aircraft carriers are still to arrive from the British Isles.

'_Of course, it is also overkill to bring Admiral Cornwallis with us_,' Lord Alexander thought. This was supposed to be a simple visit to the frontlines. Lord Alexander had envisioned going to the front with only his flagship, but Grand Fleet operating instructions – which Lord Alexander had written himself – prohibit a single ship from going somewhere without the rest of her division, unless specific circumstances prohibit the other ships from travelling.

Admiral Dalton then guilt-tripped him into bringing along the two other units – the 4th Light Cruiser and the 1st Battlecruiser – by arguing that the 4th Light Cruiser is on their way out anyway as part of the regular patrols, and the 1st Battlecruiser has new crews aboard some of their ships that require familiarization cruises.

'_Somehow this makes me feel like a bully,'_ Lord Alexander thought. He shook his head, however, and turned his attention toward the ship trailing behind his flagship, '_HMS Hermione_,' he thought.

A sigh escaped from the lips of Lord Alexander. This was not a simple mission to visit the frontlines. Lord Alexander is heading to the front to personally review intelligence that the North Africans and the Prussians are working together, a potential diplomatic nightmare that could potentially see the Holy Empire and Prussia – two of the largest Empires in the world – butting their heads in an actual war.

'_Not that we are not looking forward to fighting the Prussians,'_ Lord Alexander thought, '_but the timing could not have come at the worst time.'_

The Archduke of England shook his head. He knew that he would have to worry about that in the full when the time comes, because just as North African and the Mediterranean are his responsibility, he knew that fighting the Prussians, when that time comes, would also fall in his doorstep.

'_It would be for the best for us to finish this war with the North Africans as soon as possible,'_ he thought, and for a brief few moments, Lord Alexander thought about the propriety of actually swinging further south and attacking the North African coastal city of Tunis, headquarters of the North African fleet.

'_It is not out of the question that the harbor would be defended by the North African fleet, though,_' Lord Alexander countered, '_attacking the anchorage would require more than just ten capital ships, it may even require the full strength of the fleet given that the North Africans could bring to bear their airpower in the region.'_

Further musings on the part of Lord Alexander, however, were quickly interrupted when the bells of the ship started ringing. The General-Admiral of the Grand Fleet was familiar with the rhythm of the bells, and it was not the collision warning.

Turning his attention downward and onto the deck of his flagship, he noted with a pleased smile that his sailors are also very familiar with the three rings of a call to action stations, but that raised the question in the mind of Lord Alexander. Why would Captain Nelson – his flag-captain and the man who had actual responsibility of the flagship – call for action stations?

Shrugging, Lord Alexander quickly turned his attention back toward the open steel door that he had used to get out of the superstructure. That door would soon be closed as the ship goes up to action stations, so the commander of the Grand Fleet quickly made his way back into the superstructure.

No one was saluting the General-Admiral as he made his way to the bridge of the warship, but that was what Lord Alexander had expected. With the ship coming up to action stations, the crew are more concerned with being at the right place at the right time rather than saluting their superior officers. Only the marine on guard beside the door that would lead to the bridge saluted Lord Alexander as he entered the view of the guard, but Lord Alexander did not return the salute, instead, he headed straight into the open door of the bridge, just before another marine – this one inside the bridge – closed the door and secured it by locking the mechanism.

"What is going on?" Lord Alexander asked as he joined his flag captain beside the navigation table inside the bridge. This was the traditional position of the captain of the vessel when the warship is at action stations. As for the admiral in command of the division, well, he actually had no place inside the bridge during action stations, his place was supposed to be inside the armored bridge, but no one is going to tell Lord Alexander that, especially when it is very likely that Lord Alexander himself would be conducting the battle, and the armored bridge was not conducive to such responsibilities.

"Radar had detected multiple targets approaching us from the north, sir," Captain Raphael Nelson, flag-captain of _HMS Iron Duke_, reported to Lord Alexander.

The thirty seven year old native of Amarillo, Texas was newly assigned to be the flag-captain of the flagship. The cruise from Scapa Flow to Gibraltar was actually the first time that Captain Nelson had command of the flagship, but _HMS Iron Duke_ is not the first time that Captain Nelson is helming a battleship, it was just that this is his first time helming a battleship that is also the flagship of the fleet. Lord Alexander, however, had personally picked him.

"They are thinking that since the wind is blowing from the north, their smoke would mask them," Lord Alexander said, "They did not count on us having radar," he smiled even as he shook his head and asked, "Are the other ships in action stations as well?"

"Yes, Admiral," Captain Nelson replied. He motioned toward the navigation table and Lord Alexander turned his attention toward the surface of the table just as Captain Nelson continued, "The unknowns, if they continue on their present bearing, would hit us here just as we are about to cross that point."

"That's a very nice point, well coordinated," Lord Alexander concluded, and it is. The unknowns and the battleship division would come within sight of each other just as the division is crossing that point. That meant that if this was an ambush, someone observed the departure of the division from Gibraltar and timed the interception down to the last second. Then again, it could be just coincidence.

Either way, now that the unknowns had been detected, initiative had passed from them to the Britannians, and Lord Alexander fully intends to make use of that initiative.

"Has Vice Admiral Forlani detected the unknowns as well?" Lord Alexander asked.

"Yes, Admiral," Captain Nelson replied, "He is standing by for instructions."

Lord Alexander nodded, even as he realized how much of an opportunity this is. A few moments ago, he was thinking about the propriety of hitting the main anchorage of the North African Fleet at Tunis, now, he was being given the chance to sink some ships that would take refuge in that anchorage, but that is assuming that the incoming unknowns are North African.

"Any chance that these are not hostile warships?" Lord Alexander asked.

Captain Nelson emphasized the negative answer by shaking his head, "Our patrol is not yet due to intercept us for another day or so, Admiral, and even if it is our patrol, it should be travelling west from east, this one is travelling south from north. We have also checked with the Spanish, and they say that they do not have their ships out."

"Prussians?" Lord Alexander asked. It was not out of the realm of possibility for the Prussians to send their ships this far west. Although this location is very close to the territory of the Kingdom of Spain, this is still international waters.

The Prussians have as much right to travel through here as Lord Alexander and his division.

"Possible, but unlikely sir," Captain Nelson replied, "Supposedly, they had withdrawn their patrols north following the outbreak of hostilities, but in any case, sir, if they are Prussians, they would have already detected us, and they would already have reacted."

Lord Alexander nodded at the same time that he studied the table in front of him. He was pleased with the assessment of his new flag captain, but he was not going to show it.

Fighting back the urge to curse, Lord Alexander knew that if he had the aircraft carriers of Admiral Cornwallis with him, he could order a reconnaissance plane out within ten minutes and he could have a clearer image of just who is on the other side.

The General-Admiral mentally shook his head, however, even as a small smile appeared on his face, '_it would not do anyone good, least of all me, if I were to grow to depend on things that may not always be there,'_ he thought. The aircraft carriers of Admiral Cornwallis and their aircraft are priceless assets not only in finding out who and where the enemy is, but also with their striking capacity.

However, aircraft carriers are relatively new additions to the fleet. Britannia operates forty four of them, plus one hundred twenty one smaller escort carriers. The next largest fleet in the world, the Prussian fleet, operates one, with one more on the way as they learn how to properly operate them as part of their fleet. Lord Alexander had no doubt that it would take the Prussians at least another two years.

Lord Alexander turned his attention toward the radar scope and said, "Judging from the size of that target, the unknowns are probably close together or they are big ships, the latter is more likely than the former," he paused before he asked in a rhetorical way, "Armored cruisers?"

"The North African strike force, then," Captain Nelson said. For many officers in the Grand Fleet – and the Britannian Fleet for that matter – the decision of the North African leadership to group their armored cruisers under one unit was an inspired decision. The armored cruisers that formed the most potent striking power of the North African Fleet can now support each other and be a more portent striking power.

The problem is that there is only one, so the leadership of the North African Fleet has to husband the division until it could be put on the field for a decisive encounter. Thus, it stands to reason that the moment that the commander of those ships find out that he would not only be going toe to toe against a battleship division, but the division under the personal command of Lord Alexander – not that the Archduke had any illusions about himself, the enemy would run because of the size of his flagship, not because he is there – he would want to run away.

Fleets do not exist for other fleets to destroy, fleets exists for functional purposes, and Lord Alexander knew that for the North Africans, the functional purpose of their fleet is to remain as a fleet-in-being, a contingency that the Britannians would have to consider whenever they are planning an assault. Thus, the North African commander would want to save his ships and return home. That was something that Lord Alexander had no intention of letting them do.

"Likely," Lord Alexander conceded. He turned his attention toward the navigation table before he sighed and said, "The moment that those cruisers see us, they would want to run for home, so expect that they would not engage, but we will."

"At the interception point," Lord Alexander continued, "We will fire full broadsides against them as they charge against us, but expect them not to turn back the way they came from, they would want to break past us, and for that reason, we are not going to block them."

"I expect that they would continue sailing south, toward their anchorage, we have to stop them before that happens, so the moment that they pass us, the division would form a line parallel to them, heading south as well, and positioned to their west," Lord Alexander said, "At the same time, another line, this one formed by the battlecruisers of Admiral Forlani would be to their east, also sailing south and attacking the North Africans, between us and Admiral Forlani, we will sandwich the North African strike force and sink them before they could even contribute to this war."

"Questions?" Lord Alexander asked.

"Sir," Captain Nelson said, "What if they do not run home?"

Lord Alexander grinned, and it was not a friendly grin, "If that happens," the Archduke said, "then we will overwhelm them with our sheer mass and numbers, either way, victory would be ours."

**Northern Sahara, North African League Occupied Territory**

**Approximately Eighty kilometers west of Britannian-North African frontlines**

**March 27, 2005 **

Harry turned the binoculars to the right side in response to what Lieutenant Richardson had said. Using the field glasses, Harry identified three Soviet-made utility vehicles with flags on their hoods parked near one of the larger tents in the make-shift compound that their captured mage had identified as the location where the captured Force Recon Marines had been taken.

Thinking about how Lieutenant Richardson had made the captured North African mage talk, Harry suppressed a shudder. Lieutenant Richardson and his marines may not know how to cast the _cruciatus_ curse – or any curse for that matter – but the way that they made the captured mage talk was effective.

In fact, it was probably more effective than casting the pain curse on the man. The North African mage was probably prepared to withstand the pain caused by one of the three unforgivable curses, but not the advance interrogation methods that the force recon marines had used.

Barely ten minutes after Lieutenant Richardson had started pouring water over the face of the man before the captive mage started to talk. Of course, the North African Mage negated to tell them that the place where the captured marines had been taken also appears to be the headquarters of the entire North African League army corps that had been leading the charge into Britannian-Egypt.

Unfortunately, they could not really tear the man a new one. After realizing that they could not afford to bring the mage with them, Lieutenant Richardson had his marines stuff the captive inside a hastily built concrete and cement box. The Lieutenant planned to pick him up after they are done with this raid.

"Do we even have enough firepower to be able to take this location?" one of the marines that had been observing the camp asked.

Lieutenant Richardson was about to answer – and Harry already knew that the lieutenant would answer in the negative, though Harry doubted if that would be a factor in the decision of the lieutenant to go ahead and rescue the captured Britannian marines – but before the lieutenant could say something, Harry said, "Not in terms of conventional firepower, no," before a grin erupted on his face, and there was nothing friendly with that grin, "but we can take them."

The marines – including their commanding officer – stared at Harry, and for a few moments, Harry was sure that the marines are going to ask questions, but they wisely kept their mouths shut and instead turned their attention to preparing their equipment.

"Between us, we have five assault rifles, two machineguns, our pistols, enough ammunition for probably thirty minutes of action, and about a dozen or so explosives of the remote control variety," Lieutenant Richardson said, "As you now, we could not have replenished with the enemy supply dump."

Harry nodded. The North African use Soviet standard small arms, which meant that their primary assault rifle fires the seven-sixty two millimeter bullet, while the Britannian standard is five- seven millimeter round.

"It's more than enough," Harry assured the lieutenant. He returned his attention toward the direction of the enemy camp, just in time to see another Soviet-made utility vehicle enter the camp. The utility vehicle also had a flag on the hood, but Harry doubted that the vehicle was carrying another high ranking North African commander.

"What are you planning on doing?" Lieutenant Richardson asked Harry at the same time that he pulled the charging handle of his rifle, chambering one of the fifty rounds that was held by the magazine.

"I could demolish the camp by myself, but I doubt if that is the reason that we are here," Harry said, half in jest. His face turned serious, however, when he quickly added, "We could do that later before we extract."

The marine officer nodded, "Agreed," he said, "We do not know where our people are being held, but from the way that those high rankers are gathering, I'd say that they are inside the command tent and being given an audience by the North Africans."

Harry nodded, "I am inclined to agree with that assessment," he admitted. He closed his eyes and breathed in as if he was consolidating his strength. By the time that he opened his eyes, Lieutenant Richardson had one of the assault rifles on his other hand and he was offering it to Harry who shook his head in the negative, "I would be of more use using my own abilities and not carrying a gun right now, Lieutenant," he said.

Lieutenant Richardson did not protest as he withdrew the offered rifle. Instead, the marine office slung the rifle behind his back – this one was an extra rifle – before he turned his attention toward his men and signaled for them to move out.

The lieutenant had planned to hit the camp as close as possible to the command tent, and the marines were fortunate enough that there was good cover at that side. One by one, the marines stealthily made their way toward the outcropping of rock, taking extra care to make sure that the enemy sentries do not see them, though Harry doubted that that would happen. The few sentries that are on station appear to be more concerned with talking with each other than doing their job.

Still, Harry supposed that that had something to do with the fact that the base seemed to be a long way from the front. It also appeared to be the headquarters of their command and control echelon.

Harry shook his head before he turned his attention toward the direction of the marine that were still trying to move into position. They were crouching so low, they may as well be crawling to get to their position, but Harry could not inform them that the sentries are not watching, mostly because that would require to him to shout. In any case, just because the sentries are not watching right now does not mean that they would not be watching later.

The young naval officer returned his attention toward the direction of the North African camp. The Soviet-made utility vehicles were still parked in a neat row outside the largest tent in the outpost. Harry closed his eyes as he felt his power flow over his body. Although he had been given warning against using his magic in outright combat against the enemy unless the situation calls for it, Harry was going to use his magic as a force multiplier in this coming skirmish.

He felt that there was no option left, and, in any case, if the North Africans were to report him, Harry figured that it would just create a myth amongst the ranks of the North Africans that would sap their morale. It was not as if the North Africans could present their own mage unit and tell their regulars that magic exists. As for the Britannian marines with Harry, he was sure that they would keep their mouths shut, especially if they are ordered to do so, and Harry intends to ask his commanding officer to order the marines to keep their mouths shut.

Harry opened his eyes at the same time that he felt his magic gather in his hands. His mind flew back to one of those classes that he had audited when he was visiting Hogwarts. The professor of that class had told them that while it is possible for wizards and witches to use their magic without a focus, very few people are capable of doing it. A grim smile crossed the features of Harry at that.

That professor was technically correct, very few people are capable of focusing their magic without the use of a focus, such as a wand or a staff, the latter rarer than the former. The reason behind this, however, has nothing to do with the inherent power of the witch or the wizard, rather, the reason behind this obvious disability on the part of the focus-users was because they trained themselves that way.

Of course, since the rest of the world trained their witches and wizards that way, very few people really are capable of focusing their magic without the use of a focus.

Harry, however, was not trained like the rest of the world. He was trained at Olympia Academy, and the most prestigious school in the Empire – arguably the world – was a trendsetter when it comes to education and educational method. There was no reason why the magical counterpart would not be the same.

As a result, Harry and all of his classmates from when he was still studying primary and intermediate magic could use their magic without the need for a focus. That was exactly what Harry was doing.

The young naval officer turned his attention toward the direction of where Lieutenant Richardson had led his marines. Thanks to the absence of a radio, the lieutenant could not tell Harry when he is in position. The two officers, however, were well aware of this problem, and so, had developed their plan accordingly.

Harry now returned his attention toward the North African camp and inhaled once, then twice. It was as if he was preparing for the coming attack, but in truth, he was already done with his preparations, he was now only judging the right moment with which to launch his attack, and the right moment was something that only he could judge for himself.

However, that moment was not far from happening, and at some unseen signal, Harry inhaled one more time. This time, though, he held it for a few moments, before he exhaled, at the same time that he pushed himself up to his feet at the same time that he snapped his index finger and thumb on both hands together.

The sentries were not alert and completely missed Harry even though he had already broken cover. In their defense though, their attention was all stolen by the fact that storm clouds had suddenly appeared over their outpost.

Rain clouds were not something that is common in this part of the dessert, because the location is so far inland. It was not surprising that the sentries were surprised, and the fact that they suddenly appeared did not help matters at all. They all stared at the rain clouds at the same time that they started pointing and talking with each other as if this was the first time that they had seen rain clouds – though that was probably accurate.

Suddenly, they were no longer pointing. Instead, the North African sentries were screaming as lightning started striking them from above. Anyone that the lightning hits was instantly killed, causing the confused North Africans to start trying to find shelter against the unnatural lightning storm.

At that precise moment, however, Lieutenant Richardson and his marines launched their attack. Under the cover of machinegun fire, the marine lieutenant led his men – minus the two men who were covering them with machinegun fire – out of the position that the lieutenant had chosen as the starting point of his attack and onto the open ground.

Normally that would be a suicidal move, but the defending North African soldiers were in no position to defend, after having taken shelter against the lightning storm that Harry had summoned over their heads. The first three machinegun positions that were supposed to be protecting the outpost fell without the North Africans firing a single shot in defense of their outpost.

Harry turned his attention at that moment toward the command tent, and he had his gaze there when a man wearing stars on his epaulets stepped out of the tent. There was a look of irritation on the face of the man, and Harry imagined that the general – for the man was undoubtedly one given the stars on his uniform – was about to launch into a tirade against his men when, suddenly, he no longer cared about anything in the world.

One of the lightning bolts that was still flashing from the storm clouds that Harry had conjured hit the man, and more than ten thousand volts of electricity coursed through his body, frying him before he could even open his mouth to launch into that tirade. The man did not even see the approaching marines of Lieutenant Richardson, for he had his attention turned against the direction of the marines.

Harry dispelled the storm clouds over the North African encampment. Although effective, the lightning bolts actually do not differentiate between North African and Britannian. With the marines now inside the North African base, the lightning might hit them instead of the North Africans.

The support of Harry, however, did not end there. Not even a moment had passed after he had dispelled his storm clouds, did he launch another attack.

Most of the North African soldiers were herded together underneath small roofs, an attempt to keep themselves safe from the lightning striking above them. Unfortunately, that meant that they are gathered at one confined space, and the next spell that Harry sent them took every advantage of that fact.

The sands underneath the feet of the North African soldiers rumbled, much to the confusion – and fear – of the soldiers. Very few of the regulars showed enough intelligence to break their cover and separate themselves from their comrades, but most of them fell to the ground as Lieutenant Richardson and his marines placed bullets somewhere in their bodies.

As for those who were still clustered together, they suddenly realized that they were stepping on literally nothing. It took a moment before gravity expressed its power over them, and with a mighty shout of fear coming from the North African regulars, they fell into a deep hole, quickly followed by what appeared to be a million tons of stone that appeared out of nowhere.

By this time, Lieutenant Richardson and the marines had arrived at the entrance to the command tent. At close quarters, Harry could do little to support the men, but he knew that Lieutenant Richardson and his men are more than capable of taking the command tent, even if he would not be there to provide them with support.

The sound of engines being turned on made Harry turn his attention toward the opposite end of the North African camp. At least half a dozen utility vehicles were still there and some of them appeared to have drivers inside them. Those soldiers appear to have had enough and had instead decided to run away, but Harry was not going to let them.

The young naval officer closed his eyes as he gathered his powers once more. At the same time, the drivers of the utility vehicles gunned down their engines in an attempt to escape the camp that is under siege. Most of them only managed five meters before their vehicles were swallowed by the ground. One, however, managed a good twenty meters before a rock – bigger than the utility vehicle – appeared on the sky above the vehicle. The force of gravity made the rock drop to the earth, crashing the escaping utility vehicle beneath it as it was pulled down by gravity.

An exhausted breath managed to escape from the lips of Harry and the young naval officer was forced to keep a sharp eye out on his magic reserves. It surprised him that he was draining his core faster than he had anticipated, but the young mage supposed that that was because this is the first time that he is using his active magic in the field. Some of the spells that he had used were not even spells that most of his contemporaries at the Olympia Academy of Magic could do. Some of his professors could not even do it.

Fortunately, by the time that Harry had returned his attention toward the direction of the command tent – right after he had checked his magical reserves – he saw Lieutenant Richardson and the marines half-carrying, half-dragging two of their own. It was obvious that those that were being supported were the captives; the men were not wearing the top of their dessert fatigues.

Harry watched as the lieutenant led his men over to one of the flat bed trucks that fortunately managed to avoid getting torched by the lightning that Harry had summoned. The lieutenant was the last person to board the vehicle and even then, he was at the back, with his rifle at the ready, as if he was expecting the North Africans to chase after them.

'_They would probably be the safe assumption,'_ Harry thought at the same time that the utility vehicle approached him.

Shrugging, Harry quickly jumped out of his cover and onto the road before running toward the direction of the incoming vehicle. The driver stopped the truck to allow Harry to climb aboard with the help of Lieutenant Richardson who had his right hand outstretched toward Harry. Harry was quick to accept the help.

"What happened in there?" Harry asked before he could stop himself. He turned his attention toward the two marines that had been rescued – lying on the floor of the truck while tended to by their comrades. It seems that both men are now unconscious, but Harry made a mental note to make sure that both men are who they are supposed to be and to check their minds for any sort of programming that the North African mages may have placed there.

When one is fighting against mages, one could never be sure.

The grin on the face of Lieutenant Richardson told Harry that the man had managed to do something extra inside the tent, something that was not really supposed to be in the plan. In any case, the man looked extra pleased with himself.

"Managed to take out their whole command structure," the marine lieutenant announced, "the lieutenant general in charge of the corps that is in the lead of this offensive against the Eight Army, plus three of the five major generals that are in command of the divisions in the corps."

"Counting the one that I think I took out before you assaulted the place?" Harry asked at the same time that he accepted the assault rifle of one of the marines who was seated at the front of the vehicle.

"I don't think so," Lieutenant Richardson replied, he had to raise his voice a bit as the vehicle started to pick up speed now that they are on the highway, "We counted our kills inside the tent."

Harry nodded. He turned his attention the front of the vehicle and silently prayed that the man that they are about to get – the North African mage that pointed them toward this direction – was still alive when they get to him.

At the same time, Harry silently prayed that there would be no more surprises waiting for them. At the same time, however, Harry knew that that would be a foolish notion, him praying for no more surprised. After all, they are at war.

"So, that's five high ranking officers of the North African Army," Lieutenant Richardson said, distracting Harry and making the young naval officer turn his attention toward the marine officer. There was still a gleeful look on the face of the marine lieutenant as he added, "This would make a big impact on the front, lieutenant."

'_It would,'_ Harry thought as he nodded toward the direction of Lieutenant Richardson, '_the question is, what kind of impact it would make?'_


	19. Chapter XIX

**A/N: **I do not own Harry Potter or anything associated with it.

* * *

**NINETEEN**

**(Headline of **_**the Britannian Imperial**_** – April 3, 2005)**

_**Victory; Britannian Special Forces strike hits North African League main camp in Northern Sahara; High ranking North African League military leaders killed; North African League on the retreat after losing their commanders**_

_**Gibraltar, Gibraltar**__ – Britannian soldiers cheered at the arrival today of members of a unit from the Imperial Britannian Grand Fleet Marines. This Special Forces unit had recently scored a major victory at the front in the ongoing war between the Holy Empire and the North African League when they chanced upon the headquarters of the North African League Army unit that was in charge of the advance through Britannian territory in the Northern Sahara._

_Outnumbered with only ten men in their unit and two unable to fight after an earlier encounter with a North African League patrol during their force reconnaissance mission, the unit led by a marine lieutenant nevertheless decided to attack what they initially thought was a regular enemy camp in the middle of nowhere. _

_Displaying superior training, strength, courage, and devotion to duty as well as displaying valor beyond the call of duty, the nine marines and an attached reconnaissance naval officer managed to kill an unidentified number of North African League soldiers including several high ranking military officers of the North African League. Amongst those that had been confirmed to have been killed during the fighting are four North African major generals who are in command of four of the five North African divisions that is advancing across Egypt, and their commanding officer, the North African lieutenant general who is in command of the corps that is believed to be the primary North African unit tasked with invading the Holy Empire._

_After the lightning raid, the Britannian marines liberated a Prussian made North African military vehicle and moved eastward toward the Britannian lines at a sedate pace but not encountering any North African unit. All Britannian servicemen were able to return safely back to Britannian-held Egypt through a corridor secured by the 14__th__ Division attached to the Eight Army._

_As a result of the death of their superior officers, North African League units that had been advancing toward Britannian-Egypt suddenly turned around and retreated westward as they attempt to find new cohesion, and new commanding officers._

_General Neville Tovey, commanding officer of the Britannian Eight Army, the principal Britannian Ground Forces unit in Egypt, had announced a major victory celebration two days ago saying that the actions of the Britannian Special Forces marines and sailor had "ended the battle, not with a torrent of blood and casualties, but with relatively few bullets and a surgical strike aimed at the head of the enemy," before announcing that he intends to see the servicemen decorated and awarded for their contributions to the battle._

"_Certainly, awards and decorations would be part of the tribute given to these men," the commander of the Eight Army said when questioned about what kind of awards or decorations would be given to the servicemen, "but at this point in time, it is too early to actually say what those awards would be."_

_In Gibraltar, Lord Alexander, Commander of the Mediterranean Theater and direct superior officer to General Tovey, echoed the sentiments of the commander of the Eight Army, "Certainly, these men would be awarded," the General-Admiral of the Grand Fleet said, "and if I have my way, I'd be giving them the Fleet Cross, but I think that High Command would not be swayed that easily though I could predict Distinguished Service Cross, at the least, for all ten men."_

_The Fleet Cross is the third highest military decoration in the Imperial Fleet, coming in after the coveted Britannian Cross and the Distinguished Service Order. Both awards carry with them automatic induction into the Order of the Britannian Empire, itself another award available to servicemen and civilian citizens of the Holy Empire._

_A Distinguished Service Order is awarded for gallantry during active operations against the enemy. As it is a parliamentary award, a formal petition must first be filed by the Britannian military before the Imperial Parliament at Pendragon where a senator must sponsor the petition and turn it into a Bill. The Bill calling for the recognition and awarding of the decorations would then have to be voted upon by Parliament as if it is an ordinary Bill, though only a majority – and not the required two-thirds vote required for a Britannia Cross – is required before the Bill becomes a law._

_Her Majesty would then have to sign the law to make it formal and only then would the award be formalized. The normal processing time for such decorations is three weeks given that the Bill is considered to be urgent._

_In other war related news, a division of Britannian battleships under the personal command of Lord Alexander recently engaged in a brief artillery duel with North African armored cruisers in the Alboran Sea before the North African armored cruisers turned tail and retreated back to the safety of waters near their coast where they are protected by coastal guns._

"_The enemy fled the moment that they saw who they are attempting to challenge to a fight," Vice Admiral Richard Granger, senior adjutant to Lord Alexander, said when he was asked how the fight started and ended. Vice Admiral Granger was present aboard the flagship of Lord Alexander, HMS Iron Duke during the brief encounter._

"_We were able to close the distance to about eighteen kilometers when High Admiral York opened fire with the main batteries of our battleships," Vice Admiral Granger narrated, "The North Africans probably realized that they are attempting to tango with our battleships at that moment because they suddenly decided to flee home at maximum speed rather than stay and fight."_

_Vice Admiral Granger went on to narrate that at the speed that the old North African armored cruisers made when they ran, he would not be surprised if a few of them would soon require major engine refurbishment._

"_And they cannot do that in Tunis or in any of their deep water ports," the Vice Admiral said, "They would have to send those cruisers north to Prussia where they were built, and when they do, the Grand Fleet would be waiting for them."_

**Headquarters, Britannian Imperial Grand Fleet**

**Gibraltar, Holy Empire of Britannia**

**April 3, 2005**

The office of Lord Alexander was exactly what Harry had imagined it to be. Never one for luxuries, the General-Admiral of the Britannian Grand Fleet had selected a generic room from the administrative building of the naval base and had his staff transform the place into a makeshift office for his use.

As Harry allowed himself to look into the room while he was seated at one of the many chairs inside the room together with the marines of Marine Force Recon who had accompanied him during the mission – including the two men who had been taken captive during the encounter – he noted the absence of anything that would actually mark the room as the office of the man who is the absolute lord and master of the most powerful fleet in the Holy Empire and, likely, the whole world.

In fact, if not for the sign at the door, Harry was sure that the marines would have assumed that this was the office of a junior officer of the fleet.

There were two doors inside the room; one of them leads to the hallway that connects the many offices in the building to each other and the lift and stairs that service every floor of the building, while the other one leads to the personal quarters of Lord Alexander.

A personal quarters that, Harry was sure, would be the same as the personal quarters attached to these offices, which means his own washroom, a single bed that could barely fit one man and complete with a pillow that barely deserves the name, a locker to fit the personal things of the officer occupying the room, a shoe rack, and a window. Knowing Lord Alexander as he had, Harry was sure that the General-Admiral would not even have bothered to decorate the room with anything that would personalize it.

Having seen the personal quarters of Lord Alexander aboard his flagship, Harry was actually sure that the amenities in the room that Lord Alexander had picked for himself in this administrative building was better than the ones aboard his own flagship.

The office itself was threadbare and basic. A single generic desk that seems to be filled with papers, albeit arranged in a manner that is known only to the General-Admiral dominated the office. Behind the desk was a generic wooden chair without even a cushion, though one with armrests on the side.

The rest of the office was filled with chairs – some of them more comfortable than the chair that was meant for Lord Alexander – and a single board at the far end of the room on the surface of which were maps and other drawings that Harry instantly recognized as notes made by Lord Alexander as he reviewed and surveyed the ongoing campaigns in the Northern Sahara.

'_And the campaign is going well,'_ Harry thought. The raid that he and the men of Marine Force Recon had conducted had not only netted one mage prisoner – and said prisoner was now in the custody of Imperial Intelligence – it had also facilitated the withdrawal of the North African League corps that was rampaging eastward toward Cairo.

The sudden reversal was something that was not expected even by the most fanatical Imperial soldiers so there was some confusion when radio intercepts indicated the withdrawal of the North African League, but General Tovey took a gamble and his gamble paid up spectacularly.

XVI Corps, the most mobile of the corps under the command of the commander of the Eight Army, charged from the lines held by units of II Corps mere hours after General Tovey gave the order. In less than four days of fighting – and it was not even hard fighting – the tanks and armored infantry fighting vehicles of XVI Corps had all but recovered all the territory lost by Britannia since the fighting began.

General Tovey had ordered the corps to hold for the time being at the pre-war border while the rest of the Army attempts to catch up with the Corps, though the general had not vetoed any raids conducted by units from the Special Forces command attached to his Eight Army. None of those raids, however, had netted as much success as the raid conducted by Harry and the men that he is now with.

Harry knew that the reason that Lord Alexander had asked for them to be delivered to his headquarters was not to congratulate them for a job well done. Sure, the General-Admiral would probably be amongst the first who would be lobbying for medals and decorations be given to Harry and the other marines, but the General-Admiral was also a man who sticks to the rules and procedures, unless it suits him not to, which, most of them time, is always the case when it comes to his ambitions.

Harry knew that the reason that they were ordered to the headquarters of the commander of the Grand Fleet was so that the commander of the Grand Fleet can warn them of the consequences of talking with anyone about magic. Harry was sure that the marines and he would be getting the sermon of a lifetime regarding state secrets, but at least the marines would only be getting that.

Harry was more than prepared to bet that he is going to get a double dose of whatever it is that Lord Alexander is going to give the marines, after all, Harry was the one who had introduced the marines to the magical world despite orders to the contrary coming from Lord Alexander himself.

'_in my defense, there was no other choice,'_ Harry thought as his mind flashed back to that time when he and the marines were at the North African supply dump. The first moment that he realized that they were under magical attack, Harry reacted the way that he was supposed to react. It was not something that he regretted since at the least he was able to stop the attack and accomplish his objective.

Without his magic, Harry was sure that he and the marines would not have been able to kill the high ranking North African League commanders as well, so it was probably a good trade-off. In any case, the marines of Lieutenant Richardson would most likely follow instructions and not blab about what they had seen. Frankly, Harry was not sure who would believe them even if they would.

The door to the outside world suddenly opened, prompting Harry and the marines inside the room to jump to their feet. They had not been informed when their ultimate commanding officer would arrive to speak with them, but they are all certain that he would be coming from outside the room.

News reports are not reporting it, but Harry had heard from the grapevine – actually, from Admiral Cline who was at the dock when the light cruiser that Harry and the marines had used to travel from the frontlines to Gibraltar – that the reason that Lord Alexander had not chased the armored cruisers that he and his division had encountered was because the North Africans actually fired back, and their lucky shot managed to hit the bow stabilizers of the _Iron Duke_, prompting Lord Alexander to order his flagship and escorts back.

Harry guessed that that was where Lord Alexander was now spending most of his time, at the dry dock and overseeing the repairs to the bow stabilizers of his flagship. Harry was also sure that the mood of the General-Admiral would not be the best.

Although it was mostly a lucky shot – it was the first and only salvo fired by the North Africans and only from one of the four armored cruisers that began running the moment that they realized that they would be up against battleships rather than the relatively smaller ships that hitherto patrolled the Mediterranean – Harry was sure that Lord Alexander would still be not in a good mood.

Lord Alexander walked into the room with his chief-of-staff and chief military advisor following behind him. The expression on the faces of the three senior officers was as neutral as possible, but Harry could gleam the faint worry lines on the face of Vice Admiral Ashford. It was unusual for the chief military advisor to be worried as it was usually Admiral Cline who wears worry lines on his face.

The General-Admiral of the Grand Fleet was wearing his Class 'A' uniform, consisting of the navy blue, double-breasted jacket and matching trousers, but the sword that he carried by the chafe of the scabbard on his left hand was not a standard part of the Class 'A' uniform. For Lord Alexander though, having his sword beside him no matter what uniform he is wearing is standard. There had even been talk amongst the Imperial Knights – of which Lord Alexander is the nominal commander despite not being magical – that Lord Alexander would be carrying his sword even if he were to wear a utility uniform and go to combat.

'_At least he is not wearing his medals,'_ Harry thought, though he had to concede that that was expected. Lord Alexander was not one for wearing medals, and Lady Emma actually had to convince him to wear his decorations and the real medals during their wedding. The Archduke always complained that the original medals are 'too flashy, too heavy, and makes me look like a walking pin cushion'.

Behind Lord Alexander, his chief-of-staff and chief military advisor were both wearing the same uniform as their commanding officer, but neither men had chosen to carry a sword, and again, that was expected. Harry knew, however, that both men were wearing shoulder holster and their service sidearms are holstered on the same.

Ignoring the men who was waiting for him inside his office, Lord Alexander made his way straight to behind his desk without even bothering to turn his attention toward the direction of Harry and the marines who remained standing at attention even when Lord Alexander tossed a folder toward the direction of the surface of his desk where it landed with a thud.

It was only after he had taken his seat behind his desk that Lord Alexander had turned his attention toward the direction of the Harry and the assembled marines. By this time, both Admiral Cline and Vice Admiral Ashford had also taken their position, but unlike in a normal formal gathering, the two staff officers were not standing behind Lord Alexander, rather, they joined Harry and the rest of the marines.

"Take your seats," Lord Alexander said dismissively at the same time that he waved his hand in a 'go ahead' motion toward the gathered men. The General-Admiral returned his attention toward the papers that he had tossed at his desk, and did not return his attention toward the men in front of him until after forty seconds after they had taken their seats.

When the High Admiral spoke, it was in a tone devoid of congratulations or pride, "I suppose you are expecting me to congratulate you for doing a wonderful job at that raid," he began, "And you do deserve those congratulations, just as you deserve the medals and awards that are going to come your way soon, but that is not the reason that I had asked for all of you here."

Harry had to admit that when he first received the summons from the General-Admiral, he had thought that something like this would happen. It would seem that he was right, but he also knew that the Archduke of England was only putting up a show. If Lord Alexander is really angry, he would not have bothered to meet with the men.

"You are here because you of the actions of Lieutenant Potter," Lord Alexander said at the same time that he focused his full attention toward the man that he had named. Harry had to stop himself from swallowing audibly, though he realized that he should not even have bothered because Lord Alexander continued, "the lieutenant had exposed the unit to something that only very few people in the whole of the Holy Empire, and the world, know."

Harry supposed that he could have taken comfort in the fact that his liege lord referred to him as 'Lieutenant Potter' rather than 'Sub-Lieutenant Potter'. It simply meant that Lord Alexander had already signed the promotion papers, and if Lord Alexander had already signed the promotion papers of Harry, then the promotion is already official.

Harry also knew that Lord Alexander had already signed the promotion papers of the marines that were with him during the raid. Lord Alexander, after all, was not going to show favoritism toward Harry, not when a secret as big as the existence of a magical world is at stake, and promoting the marines and giving them awards and decorations was a method of keeping their mouths shut.

'_I suppose the fact that they were all promoted would mollify them enough that they would not hunt me down the first opportunity they get,'_ Harry thought.

The next words that came out from the mouth of Lord Alexander tore Harry out of his reverie, mostly because of the words that the General-Admiral said, but Harry would be lying if he would claim that the tone that the Archduke had used had nothing to do with him being torn out of his reverie.

"Gentlemen," Lord Alexander suddenly said in a tone that would broker no argument even if the men in front of him were in the arguing mode, "I need not tell you that what you had witnessed Lieutenant Potter performing while you were in the field is classified as beyond state secret."

Lord Alexander stared at the nine marines that was in the room with them straight at their eyes and Harry had no doubt that the Archduke was able to instill a sense in every marine that he was not joking when he said what he had just said.

Frankly, Harry was certain that that was not necessary. The marines were members of one of the most clandestine organizations in the whole of the Holy Empire. Sure there are more secretive organizations – and here, the thoughts of Harry flew to the three most secretive organizations in the Holy Empire, the Ministry for Magical Affairs, the Imperial Central Intelligence, and the Imperial Knights Corps – within the Holy Empire, but Marine Force Recon had already proven that they could keep a secret.

"I need not remind you that violating the official state secrets acts is not only a crime in the eyes of Imperial Law, but also in the eyes of military law," Lord Alexander said, "We may have removed the death penalty from our statute books, gentlemen, but that only applies in situation of civilian character, none of us in this room are civilians and, as such, we are under the Uniform Code of Military Justice."

Harry understood what his liege lord was saying. The death penalty had been removed from the statute books but only for civilian offenses – and even then, Harry knew that there is still one crime, civilian in character, that could result to a death penalty, and that is the successful assassination of a member of the Imperial Family. Violating the state secrets acts automatically makes the offense a military offense, and subject to the Uniform Code of Military Justice. With the secret of the magical world, the penalty is death by firing squad.

"Do you understand?" Lord Alexander suddenly asked.

Harry and the nine marines nodded their understanding of the words of Lord Alexander, prompting the Archduke to nod back, "Good," the General-Admiral said. He paused for a few moments before he let out a sigh and returned his attention toward the marines in front of him, "Captain Richardson," he said, surprising the marine who had not yet been made aware that he would be promoted, "You and your men did a very good job with that raid, and it was a hasty one too," the Archduke allowed himself one smile toward the direction of the marine captain before he added, "Good job."

"Thank you, sir," Captain Richardson – who now had to think of himself as 'Captain' instead of 'Lieutenant' – replied.

"You understand, of course, that while we would have a public awarding ceremony, most of the people there would be the reporters that are covering this war," Lord Alexander smiled before he shook his head and added as an afterthought, "and even then, they get reports five days after the event had happened because of security protocols."

Turning his attention toward his chief-of-staff, Lord Alexander said, "Admiral Cline, if you could please brief Captain Richardson and his marines on the awarding ceremony, while Lieutenant Potter and I have a private talk."

Admiral Cline nodded, "Yes sir," he said, "Shall we…?"

"No," Lord Alexander said, raising his hand in the universal stopping motion, "You can keep the office, Kevin," and so saying, the Archduke stood from his chair. Harry followed a few moments later, even without the Archduke motioning for him to follow.

Lord Alexander, instead of turning to his personal quarters, instead turned toward the door that he had used to enter the room and stepped out. A confused Harry followed a few moments later, hurriedly exiting the office of Lord Alexander and nearly bumping into the man himself because Lord Alexander stood just a few centimeters away from the threshold.

Harry recovered quickly and was about to offer his apologies to Lord Alexander for nearly crashing into him, before the Archduke waved off the unspoken apology, "With the things that we are going to be discussing Harry, apologizing now would be the least of your worries," the Archduke promised.

**Imperial Britannian Embassy**

**Madrid, Kingdom of Spain**

**April 3, 2005**

Hermione knocked once on the door before she heard the voice of Lady Emma beckoning her to enter. The voice of the wife of her liege lord caused Hermione to turn the single knob on the door and gently pushed the said portal forward, revealing to her the interior of the office and personal quarters of the Archduchess of England.

This was not the first time that Hermione had been summoned to the office and personal quarters of Lady Emma, and because of that, Hermione was not really surprised at how utilitarian, yet elegant the office of the Archduchess can appear. Hermione knew for a fact that everything inside the rather spacious office was exactly where Lady Emma had planned for them to be and because the Archduchess had memorized where she had placed something, she could have a copy of a report or a paper in her hands within a few seconds of realizing that she needs the same.

Of course, since very few people are actually allowed in the office of Lady Emma – because the quarters of Lady Emma are also here, and Lord Alexander could be a possessive man, Hermione suspected that it was by the instructions of Lord Alexander – very few people could actually witness the genius of the organizational capabilities of the Archduchess of England.

The first time that Hermione had met with Lady Emma at this office, the young witch understood the reason why Lady Emma is referred to as the 'Gray Duchess' amongst the highest ranking nobility circles back at the capital. She may seem to be unconcerned about things in public, often acting submissive toward her husband at public functions, but in private, she was a force to be reckoned with. Hermione now also believed the claims of Harry that Lady Emma is the only one who could actually kick Lord Alexander – both figuratively and literally – and get away with it.

"My Lady?" Hermione asked as she stepped into the room. She was not surprised to see that Lady Emma was busy reviewing some papers, papers that Hermione knew are reports sent in by various sources throughout the city. Hermione should know, she reviewed them all before sending them to the Archduchess, "You sent for me?"

"Yes, I have," Lady Emma replied. The Archduchess tore herself out of the papers that she was examining and focused all of her attention toward Hermione, something that Hermione had grown accustomed to over the few weeks since they had been working together.

Following the declaration of war between the Holy Empire of Britannia and the North African League, the Britannian ambassador to the Kingdom of Spain had opted to retire – and here, Hermione suspected that the man has had enough of the balancing game between the Holy Empire and the Prussian Empire in the Iberian Peninsula – and Lady Emma was sent by the Golden Throne to take over the position.

It was a very delicate position, and the choice of Lady Emma was turning out to be a superb one. Although the Kingdom of Spain was wary about the first female ambassador of the Holy Empire, the King of Spain had soon realized that with Lady Emma as the ambassador, the Grand Fleet was right at the corner and she has the authority to actually consult with the Golden Throne instead of the Lord President of the Council who, more likely than not, was more worried about his own political future.

"For the record, Hermione," Lady Emma said, making Hermione turn her attention toward the direction of the ambassador once more, "It also irks me that I had not been informed of what is happening the moment that it had happened and been reported to him," and so saying, the Archduchess of England handed Hermione a paper.

The first thing that Hermione noted about the paper was not the giant headline at the front page of the paper, rather, what she noted first was the date on the paper. Hermione was easily able note that this was the latest copy of one of the most popular newspapers back in the mainland, and because it was popular in mainland Britannia, all overseas territory of the Holy Empire prints a copy of the same.

Gibraltar is an overseas territory of the Holy Empire, so Hermione guessed that that was where this particular copy came from.

"Promotions and decorations and awards aside," Lady Emma said, "Alex still should have informed us of this," and with those words, Lady Emma directed Hermione to the biggest headline on the front page of the paper.

Hermione – who was still not used with thinking of her liege lord simply as 'Alex' – had a hard time understanding what the headline of the newspaper had to do with the short fuse that Lady Emma was obviously on, but then Hermione realized that Lady Emma would not have bothered to show Hermione the headline unless it had something to do with Hermione or, more importantly, with the man that Hermione loved.

"It was Harry wasn't it?" Hermione asked even before she started reading the paper. Two-quarters of a minute later, Hermione finished reading the paper and was able to confirm exactly what she had just said, "A single naval officer with a team of marines, it was Harry," Hermione said.

Lady Emma nodded, "Yes, it was him, along with some marines from Alex's embarked marine force," Lady Emma said, she produced a paper on the surface of which Hermione could see the nearly written block letters that was the signature handwriting of Lord Alexander, "Of course, he informs me about it at the same time that the world gets to be informed," and the Archduchess actually sounded annoyed.

"My Lady…," Hermione began.

Lady Emma stopped Hermione before the young witch could say anything else, "Do not mind me, Hermione, I am annoyed at my husband, not at you," and so saying, the Archduchess actually smiled toward Hermione before she asked, "Actually, Alex wanted to me to ask you if you would be willing to travel down south to visit Harry for the awarding ceremony, it is supposed to be a public ceremony, but there would be few reporters there, and Alex thought that Harry would appreciate seeing you after so long," and with a low voice, the Ambassador of the Golden Throne to the Kingdom of Spain added, "and after Alex had finished with his admonishment of Harry for the stunts that your boyfriend had pulled while on the field."

Hermione managed a smile before she enthusiastically nodded. It had indeed seemed to be a long time since she and Harry had some time together, just the two of them, and this was a chance to have exactly that. As for the stunts that Lady Emma had mentioned in her final comment, Hermione was reasonably certain that it had something to do with the existence of the magical world, and if that was true, then Harry certainly deserves the admonishment that Lord Alexander is even now, probably giving him.

**Headquarters, Britannian Imperial Grand Fleet**

**Gibraltar, Holy Empire of Britannia**

**April 3, 2005**

"What you had done was effective," Lord Alexander said as he and Harry walked toward the direction of the dry dock of the naval base attached to the administrative building that is now the headquarters of the Grand Fleet.

Of course, the two of them had to maintain appearances, so while Lord Alexander walked in front of Harry, the young wizard/naval officer walked half a pace behind Lord Alexander and to the left of the Archduke.

"I meant what I said when I said that you and the marines did a good job, Harry," Lord Alexander suddenly said, forcing Harry to turn his attention toward the visage of his liege lord. As the young wizard had expected, the Archduke of England kept his gaze forward – and kept walking – after he had said that, forcing Harry to quicken his pace for a few moments in order to keep up with the Archduke.

"We were lucky," Harry admitted as soon as he was within hearing range of the Archduke, "If those North African mages had not hit us and took two of the marines, we would not have found that camp."

"Yet luck is not a skill that you should underestimate in the battlefield," Lord Alexander replied as the two of them turned toward a relatively narrow corridor that Harry knew would lead to an underground passageway connecting the administrative building with the naval docks. It was supposed to be the secret path that would be used by the local ruling powers of Gibraltar in case the fall of the fortress was imminent. Today, it is a well known part of the administrative building and thus could no longer function as a secret path that could be taken. Then again, Gibraltar is widely accepted to be a fortress that would never fall.

For a few moments, the two walked in silence as they negotiated the straight path. When they emerged from the relatively short passageway, they found themselves staring at the massive shipyards that made Gibraltar one of the most strategic locations of the Holy Empire.

As Harry had expected, the flagship of Lord Alexander was docked at one of the yards, but the battlewagon that carried the flag of the Archduke of England does not appear to be damaged at all.

"Workers worked for over twenty four hours straight to fix that stabilizer," Lord Alexander said a few moments later. The fact that he was staring toward the direction of his ship when he said that told Harry that his liege lord had not, in fact, seen Harry staring toward the direction of the bow stabilizers, "Much as I would like to get revenge for what they had done to my flagship, I cannot take him out with the bow stabilizers fluctuating, so I ordered that it be replaced as soon as possible" he shook his head but there was already a smile on his face when he turned his full attention toward Harry, "the first shots fired in the naval aspect of this war, and my flagship got tagged."

Harry did not say anything in response, but it appeared that Lord Alexander was prepared for that because the Archduke continued, "At least we're having more success on the ground aspect."

"Its just the first shots fired, sir," Harry replied.

"Indeed," Lord Alexander replied curtly a few moments later. A sigh escaped through the lips of the Archduke before he added, "I have not read exactly what that North African mage that you had captured had said during his interrogation, but from the fact that the sheaf of papers is so thin, I could gather that he did not say much."

Harry nodded, "I had to pour water over his head in order to get him to talk when we were in the field," Harry admitted.

"Well, the boys at Intelligence are pouring more than water over his head, I can assure you of that," Lord Alexander replied. The Archduke paused for a few moments during which time he returned his attention toward the hull of his flagship.

Exactly what Lord Alexander was staring at, however, Harry is not privy to, because the young wizard knew that while the gaze of the Archduke was focused on the hull of his flagship, the General-Admiral was not really staring at the gunmetal gray of _HMS Iron Duke_.

'_He is probably imagining a pair of black eyes and a beautiful smile,'_ Harry thought at the same time that he realized how much he misses his own life partner. With Lord Alexander, it was probably more, because the Archduke had already married his Archduchess and the two of them had never really been apart for as long as they are now. With Lord Alexander commanding Britannian forces at the front, however, and with Lady Emma having been assigned as the Ambassador to the Kingdom of Spain, there truly was little that anyone could do about the situation.

"Harry," Lord Alexander said a few moments later, forcing the young sailor and wizard to return his attention toward his liege lord after he too started staring at the horizon, "I am sending you back in with Marine Force Recon."

Harry nodded. The young wizard knew that it really was not that unexpected. While the single North African mage that they had taken prisoner could prove to be a treasure trove of information when it comes to the North African League mage unit, having more than one source is always better.

For all that intelligence knew, the captive might be lying in order to get his interrogators off of his case.

"I understand, sir," Harry replied with a nod. Mentally, he was already making a list of the things that had gone wrong during the first raid and coming up with solutions to those problems.

"You are not going to go alone this time, Lieutenant," Lord Alexander added, forcing Harry to return his attention toward his liege lord with a confused look on his face. Before the young wizard could say anything, however, Lord Alexander continued, "Your old friend, Sub-lieutenant Brooke would be joining your command this time, and Colonel Carleton would be making available further resources from his command."

"Technically, the colonel would be in command of the operation, but out in the field, it would be your show and your call," Lord Alexander added, "This time, I want more than indications as to what the North African Mages are planning, I want specifics and, if possible, prisoners," he paused before he added, "and, again if possible, I also want prisoners, one that would actually sing when intelligence talks to them."

Harry could not help but smile, "I would get you your prisoners, sir."

**Order of the Phoenix safe house, Trondheim**

**Norway, Scandinavian Union**

**April 3, 2005**

Albus Dumbledore finally let out the sigh that he had been holding back since the start of the meeting of his relatively few remaining followers the moment that the men and women who profess loyalty not only to the light but also to the former Headmaster of Hogwarts started to file out of the basement that had been the location of one too many meetings of the Order of the Phoenix.

The meeting was not something that the Headmaster could call successful, for while he was able to outline his plans for the coming few months in relation to ongoing war that involves the Holy Empire of Britannia, somehow, during this meeting, there were even more naysayers.

The former Headmaster of Hogwarts – though in his mind, he is still the Headmaster of the school – could not help but wonder if his control over the Order of the Phoenix was beginning to crumble, and as he took a seat at one of the many empty chairs in the basement of the house that he now calls his own, Albus realized that that might not be too far off the mark.

In has been ten years since the Order had been forced to evacuate the British Isles, and Albus Dumbledore would have to admit that they are no closer to returning to the land of their birth as they were five – or even ten – years ago. Indeed, it now seems to the former Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot that the Order is now farther from reaching their goal than they were ten years ago.

Britannian agents systematically hunt down Order members in cooperation with Scandinavian authorities within the Scandinavian Union. At the same time, Order assets – both human and material – in the Empire of the Rising Sun and the Celestial Empire are being seized by legitimate orders of the governments of those nations – something that Albus was sure the Britannian authorities have something to do with – while Gringotts is distancing itself from the Order as talks of a formal summit between the goblins and the Holy Empire of Britannia gain momentum.

While Britannia and her allies tighten the noose around Albus and his followers, over at Prussia, Albus had heard that Lucius Malfoy and his ilk had been steadily gaining power. There are rumors that the son of the patriarch of the Malfoy family would soon be given command of a Prussian Teutonic Knight unit – Draco having joined the unit at the insistence of his father five years after the Malfoy family had relocated to Prussia. At the same time, however, old magical families that are not friends of the Malfoy family are being run to the ground by the Prussian authorities.

As for the other major power in continental Europe, the less said about the situation of magicals in the Union of Socialist States and Republics, the better. In a country where being talented more than you are allowed to be is a crime, there were few witches and wizards that are fortunate enough to survive, and even then only because they exist outside of the law and are constantly at war with the authorities there.

A headache threatened to overwhelm the mind of Albus Dumbledore and he forced himself to not think about the situation of the magical world in general. He knew that he would be having a headache just thinking about the situation that his own organization was in these days.

The sound of footsteps on the stairs leading to the first floor of the house tore the Headmaster out of his reverie, but the footsteps that he was hearing was not going up. It was at that moment that the headache that the Headmaster felt disappeared. He turned his attention toward the direction of the stairs that connected this basement with the ground floor of his house and a smile blossomed on his face when he saw the Weasley sibling enter his field of vision.

"Ronald," the Headmaster said, nodding toward the man he had named as he stood before he turned his attention toward the other person and greeted her as well, "Ginevra."

"Headmaster," the youngest Weasley children greeted back. It pleased Albus that at the least the two would still refer to him by that term. Although both had graduated from Hogwarts, they did so after Albus and his ilk had been forced to evacuate Britain, so it pleased the former Headmaster that Ronald and Ginevra refer to him using that title even after Albus had, technically, been booted out of the position.

It spoke of the respect that the two have for Albus Dumbledore, but it really was not surprising considering who is their mother. Still, the respect and loyalty that these two have for the former Headmaster of Hogwarts was one of the few things that made them perfect for the operation that the Headmaster had in mind, though the real reason that the Headmaster had chosen them is because they are the only ones available who would have a modicum of succeeding in the operation.

After all, there are not many members of the Order who are still in their early to mid-twenties.

"I have a mission for the two of you," Albus suddenly said, deciding that it would be best to head straight to the heart of the matter, "Of course, you would be free to refuse it, though you must know that only the two of you are qualified for this mission."

Even Albus felt that the last was overkill. He knew that the chance that the two children in front of him would refuse to accept this mission is the same as a snowballs chance in hell. There was no need to tell them that they are, essentially, the only people that could do this mission, but Albus still felt that he should tell them because it may give the two children a much needed morale boost.

"Of course, sir," Ron replied. Ginny just gave a nod, but Albus could see the enthusiasm on the eyes of the young girl.

Albus smiled at them in his trademark grandfatherly way, "Thank you," he said, as if the two had already accepted the mission, but then again, they may as well have already. By thanking them already even before they accepted, Albus implanted in their minds a subtle suggestion that they should accept the mission, and that was not even a magical trick, "The mission would be for the two of you to go to mainland Britannia and locate a certain person to bring back here."

"Harry?" Ginny asked. The youngest Weasley had the decency to at least blush in embarrassment after she realized that she had interrupted her Headmaster, and she turned her attention away from him.

Albus, however, merely smiled at her, "No, not Harry," he said, he turned his attention toward Ronald and said, "His sister, Rose Charlene Potter."

For a few moments, the two Weasley children looked dumbstruck, but it was Ron who first recovered, "I did not even know that he has a sister," the lanky red head commented.

'_So does most of the Order,_' Dumbledore thought. He, however, thought it best not to mention the fact to the Order at large because he could not predict how they would react. The reaction of both Ron and Ginny was something that the Headmaster had expected.

"There are very few things that we are sure about when it comes to the youngest Potter child," the Headmaster said, choosing to ignore the last comment from Ron, "what we do know is her name, and that she is studying to be a lawyer, like her mother."

Ron and Ginny looked confused at the last statement and for a brief few moments, the Headmaster wondered how the two never learned what a lawyer is, but the former Headmaster of Hogwarts decided not to educate them on that point anymore, as he continued, "You would have to find her yourself, though we have some contacts across the Atlantic Ocean in the mainland Britannia that may be of assistance to you in this, and convince her to come with you back here."

'_And with their daughter as hostage, the Order could then dictate to James and Lily what they should do,'_ Dumbledore thought, '_from the way that they stood close to the man that is now Archduke of England, one could not discount the political power that they now have amassed.'_

"What about her parents?" Ron asked. That was actually a sensible question, but before the Headmaster could answer, Ron elaborated his point, "I mean, would they not try to stop us, and how are we even going to convince the girl to come with us?"

'_That's two different questions now,'_ the Headmaster thought, but he still decided not to make an issue of it.

"James and Lily are currently at Britain," the Headmaster explained, "James is the personal representative of Lord Alexander, you might remember him as the man who visited Hogwarts with those great ships during your fifth year, Ronald, and Lily is, of course with him."

"As for how to bring her back," Dumbledore continued, he paused for a few moments as he made a show of trying to come up with a way, though in truth, he already had a way, "Well, you would have to think of a way to convince her," he turned his gaze toward Ginny and added, "Perhaps a resort to the history of your parents would be the best option?"

Ron, understandably and predictably, looked blank at that statement, but the same could not be said for Ginny. In fact, the youngest Weasley nodded as her eyes brightened, indicating to the former Headmaster of Hogwarts that she understood what the Headmaster was trying to say.

"I would be consulting with mother as soon as we arrive home, Headmaster," the youngest Weasley promised, much to the confusion of Ron who still has no idea what Ginny and the former Headmaster of Hogwarts were talking about.

Ron, however, knew that whatever it was, Ginny already knew, so he consoled himself with the fact that he could always just ask her later. That done, he returned his attention toward the former Headmaster and asked, "When do we leave, sir?"

"As soon as possible," Albus replied, and before the two could get the wrong impression as to how they are supposed to travel, the former Headmaster added, "Due to the distance involved, you would not be travelling exclusively magical, you would have to travel with a mixture of the muggle and magical means."

Ron and Ginny stared at the former Chief Warlock with incredulous expressions, and that was all that Albus needed to see in order to know that the two thought that they would just instantly pop over at the Britannian mainland.

"There are also magical wards around the entirety of North America, the Britannian mainland," Albus added, "They prevent magical transportation into and out of the Britannian mainland," he paused for a few moments before he added, "Attempting to apparate or disapparete into and out of the Britannian mainland would cause the witch or wizard to end up in their Office of Magical Transportation, but luckily, their security for non-magical means of entering their country is not as good."

Albus refrained from lecturing the two about his theory that the reason that Britannia has magically secured borders was because of the Napoleonic Wars, instead, he focused his attention toward his former students.

Having the gaze of their former Headmaster on them, there really was not that much of a choice for both Ron and Ginny, "We understand, Headmaster," Ron said, for both him and his sister, "We shall depart for the Britannian mainland as soon as our preparations are complete."


	20. Chapter XX

**A/N: **I do not own Harry Potter or anything associated with it.

* * *

**TWENTY**

**(Headline of **_**The Britannian Imperial**__ – _**April 18, 2005)**

**North African League counter-attack fizzles, 8****th**** Army holds the line**

_**Cairo, Egypt **– Four days ago, elements of what is believed to be the North African League XVIII Corps and III Corps attacked a fifteen kilometer wide sector of the Britannian lines held by elements of the 56th Home Guard Division._

_In what was supposed to be a North African League counter-attack, fifteen thousand infantry, supported by over a hundred tanks, including tanks transferred by the Prussian League prior to the war, tried to cut a gap wide enough for their forces to use in a line held by what used to be local militia units._

_Instead of the quick victory and rout that the generals of the North African League were expecting, the two North African League corps commands fell into a hastily organized trap. As elements of the 56th Home Guard Division withdrew eastward in an apparent retreat, the 55th Home Guard Division, and the 19th Infantry Division, the former located to the south of the 56th while the latter located north, pivoted in their position, reorienting their lines to face toward the surging North African counter-attack pincers._

_At the right moment, the 19th Infantry Division and the 56th Home Guard Division launched an offensive against the exposed flanks of the North African counter-attack. As the 55th Home Guard Division catches its breath and prepare to join the fray, aircraft from XXXIX Air Corps fell upon the exposed North Africans._

_The Banshee Fighter-Bombers and Wraith Fighters of the 19th and 21st Fighter Wing strafed the front most elements of the North African units, while the 27th Fighter Wing worked mostly on the approaching reinforcements of the North Africans._

_After the strafing run from aircraft of the XXXIX Air Corps, the 55th Home Guard Division, along with the 56th Home Guard Division and the 19th Home Guard Division, launched a counter-attack against the North African League and forced them to withdraw._

_What the North African League military commanders did not know was that Ghost Bombers from the 23rd and 56th Bomber Wing of the XXVI Air Corps were already waiting for them at the corridor that was deliberately left open by the 8th Army._

_After the 'Flying Tortoises' have totally demoralized the North Africans and even as their leaders struggled to regain control, the 4th Armored Division surged through the Britannian lines from the least expected direction of the North Africans, west._

_Fourteen tank commanders from the 4th Armored Division would go on to claim the title of tank-ace during the eight hour battle that followed, with most scoring more than the required five in order to secure the title. Their will broken, their leaders having fled, and the wits of their men at the frayed end, the North African League counter-attack fizzled just thirty hours after it had begun._

_As the beleaguered North African League divisions retreated westward, forward elements of the XXVII Corps followed suit, engaging the retreating North Africans in dozens of battles over the last few days that barely lasted more than five hours. Each piece meal battle was, according to a tank commander from the 12th Armored Division, 'one more step to the ultimate defeat of the enemy at the sands of North Africa.'_

_Lieutenant Jasper Green, a twenty four year old native of Butte, Montana, and the platoon leader of 4 Platoon, 'B' Troop, 2nd Squadron, 'A' Regiment of the 4th Armored was the highest scoring tank-ace during the battle, chalking twelve tank kills in addition to the two that he and his crew had already scored during previous engagements. Six of the tanks that Lieutenant Green and his Chariot Mark II Tank – 'Matador' – had taken out of action were AMX-30 Main Battle Tanks, the most advanced main battle tank available to the North African League._

_Lieutenant Green is one of the nearly fifty men who was honored in a ceremony presided over by Lord High Admiral Sir Alexander Charles York last night here in Cairo. The Archduke of England and commander of the Imperial Grand Fleet who is also the man in charge of the campaign in North Africa, was at hand to present a total of no less than six Victoria Crosses, four of them posthumously, to members of the Britannian Armed Services._

_For his part and his accomplishment, Lord Alexander awarded Lieutenant Green the Distinguished Service Cross, while the rest of the crew of Lieutenant Green was awarded the Distinguished Conduct Medal._

_"Britannia is a nation of heroes," the Archduke was quoted as saying prior to the awarding ceremony, "and today, these brave men from all corners of the Holy Empire, serving under her flag at different services have once more proven that, not only to us here, not only to their families and to the Empire, but also to our enemies, to the whole world, and to posterity and history that the Holy Empire, our Empire, is a nation of heroes."_

_Lord Alexander, who normally oversees the conduct of the war from his headquarters at Gibraltar, was reportedly the person who had insisted that the awarding ceremony be done at Cairo and as soon as possible. Sources indicate that this is because the Archduke was keen on visiting the front himself and assessing for himself the situation._

_Other sources, however, indicate that the reason that Lord Alexander was on hand was not only to discuss the conduct of the war with his field commanders, but also to personally see to some of the prisoners taken during the height of the fighting. The same sources indicate that amongst the four thousand prisoners taken were sons of the ruling members of the North African League._

_"Well, there is bound to be some important people among the rank and file of the captured soldiers," Admiral Kevin Francis Cline, chief-of-staff to Lord Alexander, said in reaction to a question asked during a press interview the morning after the ceremony, "We are still not sure as to who they are, but we are sure that there is bound to a few of them among the captives."_

_With the end of the North African League counter-attack, the initiative has once more shifted to the Holy Empire of Britannia, but no official word had been given regarding any counter-offensive. Still, there had been some talks that the Holy Empire and the North African League are soon going to enter into negotiations in order to end the war, shifting the battlegrounds from the hot deserts of North African to the richly appropriated negotiation rooms of whichever third country would be chosen._

_"Well, it certainly would not be Prussia," Kevin Rogers, a noted military analyst, geopolitical expert and professor from the University of Albany, said during an interview last night, "but if the House of Commons and House of Lords are serious about going to the negotiating table, it would actually be more demeaning for the Holy Empire, especially with the news coming from the frontlines that our boys had won some sort of victory over there."_

_In an earlier interview, Lord Alexander was quoted as saying, "Certainly, if we could solve this situation in North Africa with such peace talks, then all the more reason that we should celebrate, but in general, I find that such peace talks would only work when both sides are sincere with their desire to achieve the same. The question is: Do both sides want peace in the region? We know that the Kingdom of Spain and the other nearby countries – even Prussia – is urging peace, but in the end, there could never be peace in the region if both sides to this war do not want it."_

_With the recent victory, the position of strength that Lord Alexander wishes to obtain first before going to the negotiating table seemed to be achieved, but sources from the headquarters of the Archduke of England are not exactly mum in regards to their opposition to such negotiation._

_"The Holy Empire did not start this war," an unnamed source from within the headquarters of the Grand Fleet was quoted as saying, "and while in the end, negotiations would something be that the political brass would decide about, the military brass, and the commanders of the men who are at the field right now, would most certainly not support such a move."_

_Whatever decision may be reached by the 'political brass' would be, however, the war at the front continues as units from the 8th Army continues to move westward, chasing after retreating North African League units._

**Headquarters, Britannian 8****th**** Army**

**Fifty kilometers east of the Britannian-North African League frontlines**

**April 19, 2005**

Lord Alexander tossed the crumpled newspaper toward the direction of the makeshift desk before he turned his attention toward the assembled men inside the room. the look on the face of the High Admiral was not one of amusement, but at that moment, none of the men inside the room could blame him, even if all of them would rather that the Archduke of England turn his angry visage somewhere else.

There are many things that the General-Admiral of the Imperial Grand Fleet cannot stand, and a reporter misquoting him is one of those things.

"I would have thought that the editors of one of the most widely circulated newspapers back home would check on their sources before they run the news," the Archduke said a few moments later, "but apparently, they are in too much of a hurry to even go through that process."

The anger that Lord Alexander was reverberating to the men inside the room was something that they had never witnessed before, and that was saying something considering that three of the men inside the room were members of the staff of Lord Alexander.

There was, however, one person inside the room who could control the Archduke, and before the man who was appointed to command the Britannian military operations in the North African Theater could say anything else, she reacted.

Lady Emma stood from where she was seated and placed her right hand on the shoulders of her husband. Considering the height difference between them – Lord Alexander is considerably taller than his wife – she had to raise her hands a bit, but the effect of her hand on his shoulder – even if it was not bare skin contact – was obvious on the face of Lord Alexander.

The Archduke of England exhaled once – and as he did so, his face calmed down, as if he was afraid of his wife seeing the angry look upon his face – before he turned his attention behind him and toward his wife.

"One could hardly blame them for such a mistake when we are keeping things so close to our chests, my lord," the Archduchess of England said. The reaction of Lord Alexander to the way that his wife called her brought a smile on the face of the Lady Emma, and for a few moments, there was only the two of them inside the room.

Reality, however, was quick to reassert itself, and the General-Admiral of the Britannian Grand Fleet quickly tore the smile that had already blossomed upon his face. Instead of saying anything, Lord Alexander merely nodded, and he returned his attention toward the military officers gathered in front of him.

One of the officers that were inside the room that the General-Admiral had chosen as an impromptu meeting place was Lieutenant Commander Harry Potter. Recently promoted for his actions during the North African League offensive, Harry also sported a new decoration on his uniform in the form of the Distinguished Service Cross, awarded by Lord Alexander for his actions during the height of military operations that saw Harry capture three enemy mages. Of course, the real reason for the awarding was kept classified.

"Indeed," the Archduke replied with a nod. There was a pregnant pause as the commander of the Britannian military in North Africa stared at his men. Exactly was going on in the mind of the General-Admiral, there was only one – '_maybe_ _two'_, Harry thought as he turned his attention toward Lady Emma who remained seated at her chair even while her husband stood just a foot or two in front of her – person inside the room who could tell with certainty.

Finally, the Archduke shook his head, "It does not matter," Lord Alexander said a few moments later, he returned his attention to his men and for a few moments, they all thought that he was looking straight at them, Harry certainly felt as if his liege lord was staring right at his eyes, "The war will continue until the politicians back home and the politicians hiding in whatever city the North Africans had chosen for their capital had come to an understanding," Lord Alexander continued, "the problem with that, of course, is the fact that it is highly unlikely that our politicians and theirs would come to an understanding."

No one would comment on that, and the truth was that no comment was expected. Everyone inside the room was well aware of the feelings back at the mainland, and everyone included the youngest officer in the room, Harry.

'_The politicians are more likely to ask for an escalation,'_ the young naval commander thought. He turned his attention away from his liege lord and toward the other people inside the room and not for the first time; he wondered why his parents are not here. Of course, not for the first time since this evening, he already knew the answer.

Lord James is the personal representative of Lord Alexander to the House of Commons back at the British Isles. The Duke of Oxford would not be doing his job if he would be with Lord Alexander for this tour. In any case, Lord James would probably not be comfortable being in this meeting, not because the Duke was not up to date with the military, but rather, because the men of the 8th Army are not aware of just how much Lord Alexander trusts his personal representative. It is not surprising that soldiers would dislike politicians, though with the situation being what it is right now, Britannian soldiers and politicians are actually looking at the face of each other.

"It is still alarming that the Imperial went ahead with this news," Admiral Cline said a few moments later, he turned his attention toward Lord Alexander and said, "I am surprised that the Empress or the Crown Prince had not yet called you up, sir."

Lord Alexander scoffed, "I had been given complete authority to prosecute this war," the Archduke said, "And in a strange sense, Admiral Cline, this is what the public needs to hear right now, that we are looking for peace even as we prepare for our offensive," a small smile graced the features of the Archduke as he continued, "Of course, just because this is what the public wants to hear does not mean that I am happy with the way that it was presented to them, or the fact that I had been misquoted."

"You should actually be honored that they misquote you, husband," Lady Emma said a few moments later. The face of Lord Alexander was not the only one that was now staring at Lady Emma, but the Archduchess of England did not cringe as she continued, "They think that running your name would get them to sell more papers back home."

"A fleeting fancy, nothing more," Lord Alexander replied. He did smile toward his wife before he turned his attention back toward his officers, "And something that none of us in this room should be overly concerned with, now that I think about it."

Harry nodded, as did several other officers. Privately, the young commander wondered why he was ordered into the meeting in the first place. If there was something that Lord Alexander wanted to speak with him with, Harry would have guessed that his liege lord would have requested for a private meeting, but the Archduke of England was adamant that Harry be allowed to join the impromptu meeting that actually included the senior most commanders of the Britannian war effort in North Africa.

Together with Harry inside the room were General Neville Tovey and his direct corps commanders. The commander of the Eight Army stood at the front of the congregation of army officers which included his five corps commanders and his entire army staff. Harry knew that if for one reason or another, a bomb were to go off inside this room, the entire Britannian war effort in North Africa would end, and that was probably the reason why the security in the room was so tight.

"These newspaper reports had gotten one thing correct, now that we are at that," Lord Alexander said, he nodded toward General Tovey and the burly army officer nodded back before he stepped forward toward Lord Alexander. The Archduke was quick to give his post at the center of the room toward the commander of the Eight Army and return to the side of his wife, whose presence inside the room was something that not even a single officer would question.

"My Lady," General Tovey began, even as he respectfully inclined his head toward the direction of Lady Emma. He returned his attention toward his gathered officers and continued, "the recent North African League offensive, we believe, had reduced their ready divisions to as much as twenty percent of their pre-war readiness, and intelligence indicates that their reserve and ready reserve divisions, while fully manned and eager, are short of everything but confusion."

"In particular," Lord Alexander suddenly said, forcing his subordinate commander – the man who is the lord and master of the Britannian Eight Army, the principal Britannian unit on the field – to pause and turn his attention toward Lord Alexander, but the Archduke of England ignored him and continued, "their armored divisions are so badly shot up, they have resorted to using old KV-1 and T-34 tanks from the early forties," the Archduke smiled as he shook his head.

Harry could get what Lord Alexander was saying. Of course, those tanks would still be deadly when facing infantry, but against _all_ modern tanks, those tanks may as well be sitting ducks. The armor of the Chariot Mark I could stop the rounds fired from the main gun of both tanks, at the same time that the Chariot could deal with them easily enough. In fact, it is conceivable that the Chariot could mark the position of the North African tank first and not have to be hit by the North African at all.

"Morale is at an all time low back at their lines and we have people on the inside sowing more discontent even as we speak," Lord Alexander continued. He seemingly became aware of the fact that he had taken over from his field commander at that point and with a pointed glance and a polite incline of his head toward the general, Lord Alexander silently instructed General Tovey to continue the briefing.

There was a pregnant pause, but the commander of the Eight Army was quick to return to the fray, "At this critical juncture," General Tovey said, "we are going to launch our own offensive against the North African League with the intention of taking back as much territory as we could," there was a brief pause as he allowed his subordinate officers to digest that information that they were just given – and it was a lot to digest despite the limited words – before he continued, "Our original orders had always been to get back to the border and to hold the line there, we have not yet reached the pre-war border, but we would soon be there."

"Gentlemen," General Tovey continued, "There is nothing in our orders that said that we are not going to attempt to invade the North African League, in fact, we had been warned from the very beginning of the war that this might be needed, we are simply taking the war back to them."

Harry could see the neutral expression on the face of the generals inside the room, and he privately thought that there was no need for General Tovey to explain the reason why they are now expanding the orders of the Empress. It was common sense – at least to Harry – that the war would not end until the Holy Empire could dictate peace terms against the North Africans inside their parliament building – though here, Harry wondered how uncomfortable such negotiations would be after the Holy Empire had torched their parliament building.

"Actual operational planning is not the reason that you had all been called here, away from your critical and crucial positions in the front," Lord Alexander said, and here, he inclined his head toward the direction of two particular officers, Major General John Bedford – commander of the 4th Armored Division – and Major General Michael Withers – commander of the 12th Armored Division.

The Chariot tanks and their crews that belong to the division of both men had borne the brunt of the fighting that had seen the North African forces into the retreat, and the two divisions are still at the front, leading the charge of the entire XXVII Corps – of which, both divisions are part of – under the command of Lieutenant General Francis Nathaniel Sherman.

The other three corps that makes up the Eight Army is strung up behind the XXVII Corps, with XXII Corps just a few kilometers behind and to the north, while XXIV Corps is to the south. Directly following behind the XXVII Corps is XXX Corps, though with just three of its usual four divisions as the last one – the 7th Infantry (Airborne) – is being held back because of its additional capabilities.

Supported on the air by the aircraft of XXXIV and XXXIX Air Corps, and with the bombers of XXVI Air Corps, on their call, the advance of the Britannian front has been generally successful, with the North Africans unable to muster enough of a defense to seriously slow the advance.

"For the time being, gentlemen," General Tovey continued after receiving a nod from Lord Alexander which the commander of the Eight Army had interpreted as permission, "one can say that the first phrase of this campaign had ended, or if it had not yet ended, then it certainly would end soon," he paused for dramatic effect before he continued, "the second phase of the campaign would begin right after the end of the first phrase, and that is the time we take the North Africans by their balls and hurl them back across the border, the threads of our tanks and the boots of our soldiers following closely behind."

Harry caught the slight smile on the face of Lord Alexander, and the young Commander realized that his liege lord was pleased with the aggressiveness that General Tovey was demonstrating.

As he thought about the conduct of the war over the past month, Harry realized that the commander of the Eight Army was not someone who would boast emptily. It is true that it has only been a month since the beginning of the war, but in that month since, General Tovey had recovered from the initial shock that has been handed to the Holy Empire and had forced their enemies closer and closer back to the North African-Britannian border.

Lord Alexander would certainly be pleased with such aggressiveness and competence, but Harry privately wondered if the fact that the General had used such strong words in front of his wife would upset Lord Alexander, though that would mostly be a pedestrian concern given that Harry knew that Lady Emma is not a delicate flower. The woman, after all, is the wife of one of the most powerful men in the Holy Empire, if not the world.

Although very few people would be privileged enough to see Lady Emma using those same words that the General in command of the Eight Army had just used, Harry knew that the Archduchess of England and the personal representative of the Golden Throne to the Kingdom of Spain was well used to using the same words.

"The intent of this new offensive would not be merely to push the North Africans back to their last cities and force them to negotiate with us," and here, the Archduke of England allowed a small smile to grace his face.

Harry knew the reason behind that small smile, and the young commander was sure that most of the officers inside the room knew the reason to. It was because there would not be much of a negotiation when the time for the negotiation came. Britannia would be the one who would be dictating the terms of the peace treaty and the North Africans would have no choice but to sign them, lest they be totally destroyed.

"Our intention would be the total destruction of the North African League capability to wage war," Lord Alexander said. He paused for a few moments before he clarified his position, "of course, a permanent destruction of their capability to wage war is impossible, and no doubt the Prussians would attempt to interfere at some moment, but that is our goal and when this war ends, we would achieve it, more or less," another paused was had as the General-Admiral focused his gaze at the men before him.

Somehow, every officer in the room felt the eyes of one of the most powerful men in the Holy Empire – a man who has a claim to the Golden Throne, a man who is actually thought by everyone in this room to be a better successor to the Empress – bore into theirs, and whether consciously or not, the backs of the commanding generals of the Eight Army stiffened as they brought themselves to seated attention.

"'We know not how far such a peace would bring, but peace, it will bring'," Lord Alexander said, quoting the words of his ancestor and predecessor as Archduke of England, "Gentlemen, General Tovey, in deference to your standing duties and because I know that you have to plan the coming offensive, you are dismissed."

There was an almost deafening sound despite the economy of movement as the assembled officers inside the room stood at one and offered a salute toward Lord Alexander. The General-Admiral returned the salute and as the generals walked out of the room in impromptu groups that they had formed for themselves, the Archduke of England caught the eye of Harry and wordlessly told him to stay behind.

As was expected, General Tovey was the last of the generals to leave, and before the commander of the Eight Army walked out of the room, he exchanged one last salute with the High Admiral before leading his staff out of the room, much to the amusement of Lady Emma, but because she was off to one side of the room already, no one – save Harry – saw the amused smile on her face.

It probably would not have mattered because Lord Alexander probably already knew that his wife was amused by the spectacle even if he could not see her smiling. They are that close, after all. It was hard to believe that there is no such thing as a soul bond, because if there are, then Lord Alexander and Lady Emma would probably have shared one.

As soon as the door to the office closed and the only people left inside the room are Harry, Lady Emma, Lord Alexander, and the staff of the Archduke, Lord Alexander actually let out a sigh, but it was Lady Emma who was the first to break the chatter that had slowly died – anyway – as the generals left the room, "Is he really that much of a stickler for protocol or is he just trying to impress his supreme commander?" she asked, a smile on her face.

It was clear, however, that she was not really that interested in knowing the answer, but then, one of the jobs of Admiral Cline could be summarized as answering whatever questions his commander would ask, and given that Lady Emma is the wife of his commander, it was clear that the chief-of-staff to the General-Admiral, Imperial Grand Fleet thought that the question needed answering.

"Probably trying to impress, my Lady," Admiral Cline answered, and when he saw the incredulous looks that were being given to him, at least the Admiral had the decency to defend himself, "It is a bit annoying."

Lord Alexander shook his head, twice, before he motioned for the people inside the room to resume their seat. It was the clear sign that now that the only people inside the room are the officers that he trusts the most, formalities could be set aside.

"I did not lie when I told them that there would be an offensive," Lord Alexander began, "and it would most certainly come from the east, and it would most certainly be conducted by the Eight Army."

Upon the appropriate signal from his commander-in-chief, Admiral Cline took up the pulpit – as it were.

"At the same time, however, a newly formed Britannian Army, now staging at Gibraltar, would stage amphibious assaults and landings centered on the city of Oran," Admiral Cline continued, "Operation Orange Sunset."

"Two pronged assault, one from the east, and another from the west," Lord Alexander said, "At the same time that the Grand Fleet would be increasing its activities up and down the coast of North Africa."

"I take it that General Tovey and the staff of the Eight Army are unaware of this plan, sir," Harry said, and when Lord Alexander nodded, the young commander continued, "but the fact that you asked me to stay means that I, or at least, the Imperial Special Forces that I am now part of, per your instructions, would have a part to play?"

Even though most commanders would label the tone that Harry had used as insubordinate, Lord Alexander was not most commanders, and because this was a close meeting anyway, the tone was excused, "Of course," the Archduke commented, and he actually seemed amused when he said that, but the Archduke did not say anything else, instead, he motioned for Admiral Cline to explain.

"The offensive that General Tovey and his Eight Army is going to launch within the next few weeks," the chief-of-staff of Lord Alexander explained, "Imperial Special Forces – Marine Force Recon in particular – would be sent out on reconnaissance patrols, the objective being to locate, identify, and, if necessary, neutralize enemy strong points and other targets of opportunity, secondary to intelligence gathering and, of course, taking enemy prisoners for further enemy intelligence."

Harry nodded, what the Admiral had just described was essentially exactly what he and the men under his command had been doing since they arrived in the dessert. Although then the various Special Forces that are doing that job were divided under different commands, Lord Alexander had now organized them under a unified command and had promoted Anton Carleton to Brigadier General in order to command the unified command.

Marine Force Recon, Imperial Navy SEAL's, Ground Forces Rangers and Green Berets, as well as dedicated Air Controllers and Combat Search-and-Rescue Groups now operate under the command of Brigadier General Carleton, and owing to the fact that the general is needed at the front where his men are supporting the advance, he had elected to send Harry to this briefing – though Harry knew that the fact that Lord Alexander had requested for him had something to do with the selection.

"Granted, that is not where I am going to use you," Lord Alexander suddenly said, prompting Harry to turn his attention toward his liege lord with a surprised expression on his face. the action of Harry actually prompted the General-Admiral to silently laugh before he said, "You really think that I am going to waste a reserve member of the Imperial Knights doing a job that Special Forces is more than capable of doing?" and he shook his head.

Aware that that was rhetorical question, Harry did not answer, and that was exactly what Lord Alexander wanted, because the Archduke just continued, "Aside from the fact that I want to know more about the North African Mage threat, I also need to know the conditions on the beaches where the second front is to be opened, that is where I plan to use you, together with every reserve Imperial Knight that I could get my hands on and as much Force Recon and SEAL team that I could muster."

"We really should have built up intelligence regarding this area long before this war began," Vice Admiral Ashford commented, "unfortunately, that is neither here nor there anymore, we are now in the middle of the war, and we really could not sneak a few intelligence agents disguised as tourists to take pictures of the beaches."

"What about old pictures?" Harry asked.

"The beauty of having a centralized immigration office is knowing exactly where your citizens went and when they went there," Admiral Ashford commented, "Not exactly something that our citizenry is aware of, you understand, but then again, we only need the more recent pictures of the area that they may or may not have taken."

"What about security?" Harry asked, he turned toward the man that he knew would someday become his uncle-in-law and the man who, while not in charge of headquarters security, was probably the one amongst the three staff officers whom Lord Alexander had brought with him who knew the most. After all, the man in charge of headquarters security for Lord Alexander reports to Vice Admiral Granger.

"We doubt that the North Africans would have agents back at the mainland," Vice Admiral Granger explained, "And even if the Prussians or any of their allies, or even our own inadvertent actions, would reveal the exercise to the North Africans, with the hard-hitting offense of General Tovey, they would naturally assume that the collecting of intelligence back home would be a mere deceptive ruse."

"Until they realize that we are landing people up and down their north-west coast and taking samples of their sands, sir," Harry added.

"Quite," Vice Admiral Granger replied, nodding once toward his nephew-in-law, "but then again, the teams that you would be leading are not going to be there to get them caught, Harry, you know that."

Harry nodded, "When do we start?" he asked.

"The North Africans have, by now, noticed the build-up in Gibraltar and, to a lesser extent, the one in Bermuda, but they still think that those units are going to go to Egypt," Vice Admiral Ashford said, a thin smile appeared on the face of the boyish admiral as he added, "they are sending their best units eastward where General Tovey and his people are preparing to eat them alive, leaving nothing but third – I'd actually say fourth – class regiments and battalions to meet the landing."

"Armored divisions with no tanks or respectable armored fighting vehicles, mostly pick-up trucks with machineguns, recoilless rifles, and sheet metal, supported by infantry with rifles older than the fathers of the men holding them, most of which still operate manually with bolt-action, machineguns as immobile as the bunkers they are hunkering down in," Admiral Cline said, "our worst enemy would be the terrain, which is why we need to know everything we can about it."

"Understood," Harry said.

"You and the Imperial Knights already in theater are coming with us tomorrow, Harry," Lord Alexander suddenly said, "General Carleton has already been informed and while he does not like it, the man knows better than to disobey my orders, besides," and here, Lord Alexander grinned, "I need a mage to guard against some mage guests that Special Forces found for me."

The eyes of Harry widened at the implication of what Lord Alexander had just said, but the young commander merely nodded his acknowledgement of the instructions that he had received from his liege lord.

"We're bringing them back to the Rock aboard the flagship tomorrow," Admiral Cline said, though that was more to Harry than anyone else inside the room. Harry did notice that Lady Emma frowned when the chief-of-staff said that, but she said nothing, "You will be aboard the flagship as well."

"The enemy is well aware that we have caught their mages," Lord Alexander suddenly said, and at that moment, Harry realized the reason behind the frown of the Archduchess of England.

"Wouldn't that mean…?" he began.

Lord Alexander cut him off, "That is the plan," he said, and with a grin toward his wife – which caused her to frown at him – he added, "Which is why my Lady Emma would not be joining us tomorrow, instead, she would be taking flight to Malta, and from there, as representative of the Golden Throne, she would be visiting the Vatican to convey our greetings to the new Pope."

Lady Emma did not say anything, but it was clear that she did not like the mission that she had been given. Harry suspected that it had something more to do with the fact that she was not going to go back to her posting in the Kingdom of Spain with her husband, and the fact that her husband was deliberately placing himself in harm's way.

Still, this was exactly how Lord Alexander would have played his cards, and with a nod toward his liege lord, Harry said, "Understood."

**Weasley Residence, Trondheim**

**Norway, Scandinavian Union**

**April 19, 2005**

It certainly was not the first time that Molly Weasley was seeing a child – or two – of hers off.

She had done it the first time when William, her eldest, finished Hogwarts. Off to Egypt to work with the goblins and the dangerous field of curse-breaking.

She had done it the following year when it was the turn of Charlie. Despite his natural Weasley talent for quidditch – aside from red-hair that was one thing that they always seem to inherit – the second eldest Weasley child opted for a career with magical creatures. Traditionally, that meant magical reserves in Eastern Europe, but Eastern Europe is Prussian territory. Molly did not think that she would like her son living in Romania, but at least that was closer than Australia. Unfortunately, Australia is where Charlie is, given that it is the only Commonwealth state that could actually afford to maintain dragon reserves.

Things changed a little for Percy and the twins, as both opted not to go to another country, though Molly knew that that had something to do with the fact that the Weasley family are now amongst the most wanted people in most of the countries of the world.

With Ron and Ginny, however, it is different. The two may have already finished their education, and they may now be qualified adults, but in the eyes of Molly – or probably any mother for that matter – her two youngest would always require her to be close. Unfortunately, the mission that they are now about to embark on would not allow her to even be in the same country as her.

'_Mainland Britannia,'_ the Weasley matriarch thought, but further musings on her part were interrupted when Ron and Ginny entered her domain, the kitchen or her tiny – or at least in the opinion of everyone in the room – house. Both were already dressed for the cold weather outside, indicating that both are now ready to embark on their journey that would see them – if all goes according to plan – in New Orleans in a month.

"Come and give me a hug before you leave," Molly told her children, and both did not even hesitate. Rather, they approached their mother – Ginny first because she is closer – and accepted the hug of their mother, both thinking that it would be quite some time before they could feel the crushing hugs of their matriarch again.

Arthur Weasley, patriarch of the family and one of those who actually regretted the fact that he joined the Order after the Order fled the British Isles, entered the kitchen while his wife was in the process of embracing his two youngest. Privately, the former ministry official disagreed with the fact that his two youngest are being sent on a mission, but he knew that there was little he could do about it. After all, both Ron and Ginny are already legal adults, and they had been for quite some time now.

"Dad?" Ron asked.

Arthur nodded toward his son, "Good luck," he said, he extended his hand toward his son with the intention of shaking hands with him, but even as Ron extended his hand to meet those of his father, Arthur suddenly changed his mind and pulled his son to a hug. Ginny soon followed.

"I know Albus says that this is an important mission, but if, for any reason at all, you do not think you could accomplish it, come back," Arthur said even as he continued to hug his children, "Albus wound understand."

Later, as Molly and Arthur stood at the porch of their home, their two youngest slowly fading from their sight as Ron and Ginny walked down the road together with two older Order members, Molly placed her head on the shoulder of his husband, a clear indication of how worried she is.

The response of Arthur was to pull her closer to him and softly whisper to her, "It'll be alright,"

**Kottelberg Castle, West Pomerania**

**Prussia**

**April 19, 2005**

Lucius Malfoy was not one who made a habit of opening his house to guests. In the view of the former British aristocrat and now the secret magical advisor of the Prussian Premier, the more you deny people entry into your home, the more they would want to get inside your home, and that translates to not only more party guests when you actually host a party, but also power because these people who would want to be invited – and seen with influential people – would be willing to do anything to bag one of those invitations.

It was a tactic that he had used when he was still in the British Isles – and here, he had to fight a sigh as he remembered _his_ guests at the annual Malfoy New Year Party which included the Minister of Magic and his close staff, now that was power and influence all in one go – and it was a tactic that he intended to continue using even though he is now in a foreign land – '_well not as foreign as most would think, really, the Malfoy family, after all, came from France, and France now forms part of Prussia.'_

As his thoughts returned to the present, his gaze involuntarily turned toward his only son – Draco was entertaining Pansy Parkinson by surreptitiously pointing toward some of the guest as said guest approached the buffet table.

Lucius knew that his son would never be like him, no matter how hard he tried, Draco just would not learn the lessons that Lucius tried to instill in him. Many times the blond aristocrat who was the former second-in-command of the Dark Lord – or at least, he was in the mind of Lucius – wondered if the seemingly un-Malfoy attitude of the scion of the family came from the mother side, the Black Family, but Lucius was also quick to shut that down. If anything, the Black Family is sneakier, more cunning, and more dangerous with their words and actions than the Malfoy Family.

The only reason that a Black is not the apparent second-in-command of the Dark Lord is because there was no Black who joined the Dark Lord who could take that position, after all, the Blacks also lorded it over the Dark Lord. Sure Bellatrix and Regulus joined, but neither was in the running to ever become the Head of their House.

The noise of someone clearing his throat behind him tore Lucius out of his reverie and he turned his attention toward the direction of the sound. One of his old colleagues in the forces of the Dark Lord and now one of his business partners – Peter Crabbe – stood just behind him, and upon seeing that Lucius was looking at him, the other man nodded.

The study room of the new Malfoy Manor was located just behind the Grand Ballroom. Like the Grand Ballroom, the lord of the Malfoy family had no need to convert this room, because the family who owned the castle before the Malfoy family also used this room as their study. Of course, Lucius had to do some redecorating and where a family portrait of the family that used to occupy this castle once hanged – at the place of honor in front of the fireplace – there now stood an oil on canvas painting of Lord Lucius Malfoy in Prussian court dress.

It cost Lucius a quarter of a million reichsmarks to have that painting made, and another five for all the paintings and refurbishments that he had added over the years since he had made this castle his home, but in the opinion of the blond-haired dark-minded wizard, it was all worth it.

It was well worth it to remind the people inside the room right now – his old war comrades – that he is still their leader. Inside the study, the former Death Eaters of the Dark Lord Voldemort – from inner circle members who had managed to evade capture and incarceration like Lucius himself to lower class Death Eaters who just joined because they thought it would be fun like –Thorfin Rowle – mingled and chatter amongst themselves.

None knew the reason that Lucius had asked for them, but all of them knew that the reason for the impromptu party being held outside was to cover for this meeting.

"Gentlemen," Lucius said as he entered his study, and exactly as he planned, the moment that he said that, all small conversations stopped, and all eyes inside the room turned toward him.

Lucius allowed them to watch him as he took his seat, but as soon as he is seated – and when he saw that the ever-impatient McNair was ready to say something – he finally said, "I asked for all of you here because we have a situation regarding one of our experiments over in North Africa."

Lucius pretended not to see the snorts and scowls that greeted that announcement. He knew that many of his old comrades did not like the fact that he is meddling in a war between muggles, but they did help him with the recruitment, without the knowledge of the Prussian government who was supposed to be the primary sponsor of the program.

"What kind of a situation are we talking about here?" Vincent Yaxley – always one of the smarter ones – asked. A former Ministry official who had risen high, the man is as ambitious as Lucius himself, but despite his considerable intelligence, would never actually be a match to the blond patriarch of the Malfoy family, something which even Yaxley himself knows, which is why he would not even bother.

"A group of our mages had been captured in North Africa during a training mission by the Britannians," Lucius elaborated, he paused for effect before he added, "Goyle was with them and was captured as well."

A worried hiss went up down the spine of everyone inside the room. Although common opinion amongst the people inside the room was that Nigel Goyle had become a liability since the death of his son, they still could not ignore the possibility that the man would talk. If nothing else, everyone in the room knew how weak the mental shields of the man are, and how powerful the mind-reading skills of Britannian government mages are.

"This is a problem," Yaxley said, "While he has been a liability over the past few years, he is still a comrade. If nothing else, the secrets in his head could compromise us," he stared hard at Lucius before he added, "Should those secrets be compromised, we may need to flee to a new home once more."

Lucius smiled, "But I did not ask for all of you here to ask for your opinion in regards to what should be done," he said, he inclined his head toward Yaxley in a patronizing move, before he added, "I have already made the decision and I have already implemented it, you are here simply to be informed."

Most of the people inside the room frowned, but no one would dare say anything against Lucius. The man may be annoying most of the time, but he was smart, he was powerful, rich, and he is the unofficial leader of the Death Eaters, now that their master is gone.

Unable to contain his own voice, Lucius finally said, "I have tasked the North African Fleet with the mission of sinking the warships that I know are carrying Goyle and the other mages from Egypt to Gibraltar."

There was no need to mention that Lucius had gotten the North Africans to cooperate by essentially manipulating their intelligence services.

It was not really that impressive of a plan when one thinks about it, but it was merely a preliminary plan. Lucius had kept the other part of the plan a secret, for now. The North Africans might actually succeed, anyway, so there was no need to inform his comrades about the fact that he already has a strike team of mages waiting at Gibraltar.

**Tunisia Naval Base, Tunisia**

**North African League**

**April 20, 2005**

It was not the first time that the eight armored cruisers that made up the strength of the 1st and 2nd Independent Strike Squadron of the North African League Naval Fleet had raised steam for a sortie. They had done that many times before and during the war. This, however, was the first time that they are going to raise steam to sortie with the intention of actually hitting a Britannian patrol.

The fact that Britannia had established patrols between Gibraltar to Malta, then Malta to Cairo, and vice versa is something that high command was well aware of, and there were many times that the high command had hoped that they could hit such a patrol, but the Britannians are masters of not only patrol scheduling, but of dreadnought battles in general, and combined arms in particular, including using the newly developed aircraft carrier.

This time, however, word had been received that no Britannian aircraft carrier had actually left their ports in either Gibraltar or Malta, and that the ports in Cairo have no aircraft carriers in them. In addition, intelligence had assured the Admiral who has command of both squadrons that he would only be facing heavy cruisers, not battleships or battlecruisers, even if it is known that Lord Alexander is currently in Cairo.

It would not have mattered, in any case. The eight armored cruisers had sortie many times, but the only time that they had actually fired a shot in anger against a Britannian squadron, the battle was short-lived as both squadrons turned around, seemingly unwilling to offer battle. That would change today.

Defeat after defeat in land means that the North African ruling elite is desperate for a victory, and it would seem to them that the fates had just handed them one. All they have to do now is to take it.

* * *

**E/N: **More than four months...my apologies... It was a difficult semester, and it only ended last week...


	21. Chapter XXI

**A/N: **I do not own Harry Potter or anything associated with it.

* * *

**EMPIRE**

**TWENTY ONE**

**Aboard **_**HMS Iron Duke**__, _**Lord Alexander Fleet Flagship**

**On Transit, Malta to Gibraltar, **

**April 24, 2015**

The designers of the _Duke-_class battleship did not really want to place a brig in the battleship. They held that since these ships are supposed to be flagships of the admirals in command of whole battle fleets, there would be plenty of other ships where unruly crew and prisoners could be stored, such as the consorts of the battleships that are expected to sail with these huge warships.

In the end, however, the designers had to bow down to practicality as they realized that while the _Duke_-class battleships are supposed to be escorted by other ships, sometimes, this would not be possible, hence, there is a need for a brig. In any case, a brig is just a box built deep into the hull of the warship and as close as possible to the side of the ship without compromising the armor integrity of the warship.

The only consolation that the designers had in this particular disagreement between them and the final authority was the fact that the brig in the warships are just the same as the brig of the other warships of the Empire, if a little smaller, and it was here where five captured North African mages were cramped per the instructions of Lord Alexander.

Usually, a couple of marines from the ship detachment would be on duty near the brig at anytime, even when there are no prisoners, but the nature of the prisoners that are being transported aboard the flagship was so secret that Lord Alexander had made it so that there are no marines near the brig. That does not mean that the prisoners are relatively free, no, if anything, they are actually more curtailed that an ordinary prisoner.

To guard against magical travel – such as apparition and portkey – the prisoners were wearing magical suppression cuffs around not only their wrists, but also around their ankles. The nature of the suppression, however, was localized, which means that it is actually possible for the prisoners to be able to escape should they be able to use their entire magical prowess. The problem would be the fact that they would be leaving behind anything that is connected with the magical suppression cuffs.

This simply means that if any of the five decide to escape by apparition, they would be leaving behind their wrist and their ankles. Of course, should they decide to leave by portkey, then the only thing that would be leaving would be their hands, because the suppression cuffs on their wrists would have prevented the magic of the portkey from travelling through the entire body of the prisoner.

As he entered the brig, Harry remembered that the cuffs were designed by the Imperial Intelligence Bureau under the direction of Remus Lupin, one of his honorary godfathers. The man – while unwanted in the eyes of the magical government of the British Isles because of his unfortunate case of lycanthropy – was a genius in runes, arithmancy, and charms. He also has a mastery in the newly emerging branch of magic known as technomacny, though that would hardly be a surprise given that Remus was one of the founding fathers of that particular branch.

Harry was forcibly returned to the present by the sight in front of him. He had expected the fact that the prisoners would be isolated, each would be in their own cells, but he had not expected the steel doors that had apparently been bolted at every entrance to each of the cell. The effect was that the prisoners were literally inside a box, unable to see anything aside from what is already inside their cells, and given that little light actually passes through the cells, Harry was prepared to bet that the prisoners could actually not see anything at all.

That suited Harry just fine, because his purpose here was not to look into every single one of the prisoners, rather, he had been sent down here by Lord Alexander with a simple mission, to ascertain the name and the personal circumstances of one of the prisoners that was currently enjoying the hospitality – or lack thereof – of the brig of _HMS Iron Duke_.

Harry knew that Lord Alexander – and his staff – was interested in this particular prisoner because of the fact that he is obviously not from around North Africa. The blond hair was a dead giveaway, as were the green eyes, but the man had remained stubbornly defiant when questioned, and to the horror of the mind-readers that Lord Alexander had brought with him when he interviewed this prisoner, the man had very strong mental shields.

'_Of course, that indicate occlumency training,_' Harry thought. That was hardly surprising, if the man was from the Holy Empire of Britannia Imperial Knights. It is standard training for every candidate for a position within the elite – and secret – mage arm of the Imperial Knights to have mental shields, as they are trained in the art of occlumency.

When it comes to the North African Mages, however, this was a rarity. To date, aside from this mysterious – and obviously non-North African – mage, no other captured mage had demonstrated even the slightest bit of mental shields that would indicate occlumency training.

It was not that Lord Alexander had expected that Harry would somehow be able to break the mental shield of the prisoner, no, that was not the reason that Harry was here. The reason that the young officer was there was purely his own curiosity. The Archduke of England was not even aware that Harry was at the brig at that moment, though that was hardly surprising to Harry.

The young Lieutenant Commander was aware that his liege lord was busy at the bridge of his flagship, together with his staff as they scan all the cardinal directions, approaches to the small – though it is actually the most powerful battleship division in the whole world – division of battleships. Lord Alexander was confident that the North Africans are going to attack him, and there was reason for that.

Harry knew that the very purpose of the visit of Lord Alexander was to bait the enemy into coming after him, and while the Archduke was not sure if the North Africans knew that he was with the division, he was still sure that they are not about to let the opportunity to attack pass them, specially not now when they have just suffered another defeat.

Harry went out of his reverie the moment that he was staring at the door to one of the cells. He knew that this was the cell where the mysterious foreign mage was secreted, and with a single motion of his hand, a tiny slit on the steel door slid sideward, allowing a little light to filter into the cell.

The man inside the cell may have been surprised by the sudden entrance of light, no matter how miniscule that light was, but Harry needed that light in order to see – albeit not that well – the person inside.

The first thing that struck Harry was not the blond hair, for that was something that he had already expected. Rather, what struck Harry was the fact that even with the small light, he was able to recognize the man. It was hard not to remember the man when his father and mother had told him all about this person.

James and Lily were interested in this person not because he was someone that could be turned and could be used. In fact, if not for the actions of Lord Alexander during his visit at Hogwarts – back when the castle was still under the control of Albus Dumbledore – this man would not have been at the radar of the followers of Lord Alexander.

"Goyle," Harry muttered under his breath.

Apparently, he was not quite enough, for the man inside the room reacted at the sound of his voice. First, his ears perked up upon hearing his name, then the head of the man turned toward the direction of the light – and the voice.

Harry had been informed that this man had not say a single thing since he was captured, at least, not when the guards are watching or listening. The words that came out of his mouth in response to the sight of Harry were probably the first words out of his mouth since the day that he was captured five days ago.

"Potter," Goyle said.

It was not that difficult to guess why the man inside the cell knew his name. Harry knew that just as the followers of Lord Alexander had familiarized themselves with the people who may someday be a threat to their liege lord, those Death Eaters who had managed to escape the British Isles before the hammer fell were – according to intelligence – also familiarizing themselves with those that they may someday face on the opposite side of the field.

In the case of Harry and his parents, Harry knew that the Death Eaters are more than interested, because of the fact that the Potters were the last family that had seen Lord Voldemort before the self-proclaimed Dark Lord disappeared from the face of the world. It is not that hard to imagine that his followers want to know what happened and if the man that they worship as the Dark Lord could be resurrected.

"I should have known that you would be involved in this," Goyle said, before the man let out a harsh laugh and quickly added, "it does not matter, though, I would never talk and my comrades would not allow me as well."

Harry nodded, though with the slit in play, he very much doubted that Goyle could see his action, "I know," he said, he imagined that the man inside must have been surprised by that declaration, but before anything could be said, Harry added, "I'm not here to speak with you, and I already know that Lucius Malfoy and your fellow travelers are willing to do anything to make sure that you do not talk, even kill you," Harry paused for a few moments before he added, "I imagine that that is what you want to happen right now, and Lucius is about to oblige you your wish with the North African armored cruiser squadron, but I assure you that we are more than prepared for their approach," a dangerous grin came across the face of Harry before he added, "In fact, we are already expecting them."

Goyle let out another harsh laugh, "Do you really think that we, those who are descended of the purest of blood, the only ones who should have been allowed to practice magic, would depend upon a bunch of muggles and their contraptions to do our job for us?" he suddenly burst out laughing even louder.

Harry closed the slit at that moment. The nature of the containment door means that not even sound could come out, but the reason that Harry had closed the slit had nothing to do with him not wanting to hear the laugh of the man inside, rather, it is because he realized that he had just hit something that Harry was sure no one else knew.

As he thought about it, the more Harry realized that it made sense. Of course the Death Eaters are not going to depend on the muggles, which means that while it is true that the North Africans are coming, it is also possible that Lucius Malfoy may have a reserve plan in place, and Harry was prepared to bet that that reserve plan was already waiting for them at Gibraltar.

Before Harry could even think about it, he was already walking out of the brig. He knew that he had to warn his liege lord, and at that same time that he started walking, the mind of Harry kicked into overdrive as he tried to come up with a plausible method to silence Goyle and his mage companions if he was working for Lucius. Often, that was the best way to know what the other side was planning.

As Harry stepped out of the brig, however, sirens started ringing all around the ship. Harry paused for a few moments, before he started running toward the direction of the armored citadel of the flagship as he recognized the beat of the siren.

The voice of the flag captain of the flagship came quickly after the first round of the sirens, but that was hardly needed.

"Now hear this, now hear this," Captain Nelson was broadcasting from his position at the flag-bridge, "action stations, action stations, enemy warships detected, approaching our position from the north, all hands, man action stations."

Harry swallowed as he continued to run. He had never been inside a battleship – or any ship for that matter – during an actual engagement of the giant behemoths, and the fact that there was literally nothing that he could do in this battle did not sit well with the young naval commander.

A sigh escaped from the lips of the Archduke as he turned his attention toward the north. Lord Alexander knew that if the North Africans are going to attack, this would be the most likely direction that they would be coming from. It would seem that whoever is in command of the North Africans are of the opinion that the Britannians would not expect an attack coming from that direction, hence, the North Africans always come from that direction.

'_You would think that they would be aware that we are used to it by now,'_ Lord Alexander thought. Of course, the tactician in him also knew that there is a chance that the North Africans were aware of that already, hence, they may change their tactic for this coming engagement.

That was the reason that while Lord Alexander and Vice Admiral Granger was currently occupying the starboard side flying bridge, Vice Admiral Ashford and Admiral Cline were both on the port side flying bridge, using their binoculars – just as Lord Alexander and Vice Admiral Granger are doing – to see if the North Africans would decide to come from that direction.

That the North Africans are coming is all but certain, Lord Alexander knew. His spies at the harbor where the North African armored cruisers are home-ported had reported that the cruisers had departed from their berths and have already left. The ships are already at sea, and all that remains to be done is for the two opposing groups to meet somewhere where they could exchange fire.

Of course, those ships left four days ago, the same time that the 9th Battleship Division had departed Cairo for the first leg of their journey, Cairo to the city of Valetta in Malta where Lord Alexander had seen Lady Emma off of his flagship.

How he wished that he could keep his wife with him, but even though he is confident that he would win the coming match, he still would not risk having his wife with him on his bridge when the shooting starts, and the Archduke of England knew that his Archduchess would insist – the way that only she could – that she would stay by his side.

Lord Alexander mentally shook his head as he abandoned that train of thought in order to latch upon a new one.

Specifically, just where did the North Africans port their ships for the past four days while they were waiting for him in their ambush. The spies at Tunisia and other harbors and ports where the North African warships could have docked all report that the warships had not returned to any North African naval base. The armored cruisers could stay at sea for months at times but Lord Alexander knew that they would have to go somewhere in order to conserve their supplies.

Another sigh escaped from the lips of the Archduke even as he pressed his binoculars against his eyes once more. Scanning to the starboard side of his column, all that Lord Alexander could see was the blue sky. Still, he kept staring toward the general direction for a few moments before he lowered his binoculars. He turned his attention toward the mast of his flagship and a smile came across his face.

In a sense, the fact that Lord Alexander and his staff are scanning the skies surrounding their flagship was an exercise in futility. It was not that the North Africans are unlikely to attack; it was just that while visual range is good, it would be the radar – the array of which was mounted on the mast of the flagship, or at least, one of the radar arrays – that would be able to detect the approaching North Africans.

Still, the General-Admiral of the Grand Fleet was scanning the skies if only to do something that would pass up time. This is because the battle plan for the coming engagement had already been decided, and Lord Alexander had formulated the battle plan – together with his staff – even before he arrived at Cairo for the awarding ceremony.

Lord Alexander shook his head at that moment in order to bring himself back to the present. He placed his hand on the shoulder of his senior adjutant – Admiral Granger was again using his binoculars to look, but this time, he was looking to the front of the battleship column – causing Admiral Granger to lower his binoculars and look toward his commanding officer.

Lord Alexander inclined his head slightly toward the direction of the bridge, and Admiral Granger nodded, though he allowed Lord Alexander to lead the way back.

The bridge of the _Duke_-class battleship – like the bridge of the _Hermione_ and the _King Arthur_-class battleships – has two flying bridges built into the side. Although practically useless in the middle of an engagement – no one wants to be in the unarmored and unprotected flying bridge when artillery shells started landing all around the ship – it was added because it was seen as a helpful navigation aid. It also served as a means for fleet commanders to check the formation of their ships, although that is mostly done before the ships started shooting at each other.

Inside the bridge of the _Iron Duke_, the bridge crew busied themselves with whatever it was that they are supposed to be doing. Under the watchful eye of Captain Nelson, two dozen men – all wearing the Fleet Working Uniform with Britannian flag patches on the right shoulder and the patch of the Grand Fleet on the left – work on the systems in the bridge.

Very few systems necessary for the life of the ship are actually located in the bridge.

Engine control, for instance, is merely token and consists only of an engine order telegraph, which is just an elaborate message passing device, since the engine order telegraph does not really control the engine; it merely passes information to the boiler room buried deep within the hull and from where the engines are controlled.

As for the systems necessary to fight the warship, while there are some in the bridge – such as a dedicated radar technician and his consoles for instance – most are actually redundant, with counterparts located in the Action Control Room deep within the hull of the ship. It is from that room where the four turrets housing the main battery of the ship are controlled. The room could also control the secondary batteries, but in practice, the secondary batteries are allowed to operate on their own because they are relatively short range weapons whose operators could see their target without the need for instruments. Of course, the secondary turrets also have their own instruments.

The only reason that the bridge still exist is because of tradition and because it is more practical for the captain of the ship to actually occupy the highest – well, relatively highest – portion of the warship so that he could see exactly what the ship is doing and where it is going. As for the admirals, the bridge was also the best place from where he could direct the conduct of the battle. After all, this is where he could see the most with his eyes, and though the systems may not be that good, it serves.

Lord Alexander turned his attention toward his flag-captain. Captain Nelson does not have his eyes forward as the flagship sailed westward. Instead, the flag-captain supervised the operations in the flagship, though Captain Nelson stood behind the overly large navigation table that was at the center of the bridge. The overly large navigation table was the tell-tale sign that this is a flagship bridge. Ordinary ships – even huge battleships of the _Hermione_-class – would have a small plotting table that the captain could use to chart his planned course with his officers.

Captain Nelson turned toward Lord Alexander as the General-Admiral approached him. The flag-captain gave Lord Alexander a respectful nod – unless someone is relieving someone, no one salute inside the bridge – before he reported, "We've made radio and radar contact with _McAllen_ and _Norfield, _they are approaching to rejoin the formation, _Huntington Lake_ is still leading her squadron on search and we have no contact with them as of yet."

Lord Alexander nodded in acknowledgement of the report. _HMS McAllen_ was the lead destroyer of the 5th Destroyer Squadron while _HMS Norfield_ was the lead destroyer of the 16th Destroyer Squadron. Both squadrons – together with the 9th Light Cruiser Squadron led by _HMS Huntington Lake_ – normally form with the 9th Battleship Division to form the 9th Battleship Group, which is the lead unit of the Battleship Detachment, Grand Fleet.

All three squadrons had accompanied the 9th Battleship Division during the cruise from Cairo to Malta, but Lord Alexander had detached them early morning in order to scout ahead of the main group. All squadrons have instructions to return to the division by 1600 Hours if they had found nothing.

It would have been different had they found something, because then their instructions would be to mark the opposition and their bearing as well as their range before running back to the formation, reporting to the group flagship –_ HMS Iron Duke_ – the moment that radios were in range.

Lord Alexander turned his attention toward his wrist watch – '_a man wears only two pieces of jewelry on his person,'_ his father had taught him, '_his wristwatch and his wedding ring_' – and noted the time.

"They are a bit early," he commented, mentally noting that there is still over half an hour before the time that the destroyers are due back home.

"They report that the seas ahead of us are clear," Captain Nelson said. There was a brief pause before he added, "Perhaps they decided to return early?"

"Could be," Lord Alexander noted. There really was nothing that he could do about that, however, since it will take the two destroyer groups over thirty minutes before they could rejoin the division. Technically, they would still be within their instructions, but even if they were not, the Archduke had no intention of disciplining his men.

"We've had a little over seven hours of journey, and almost two more days ahead of us, the enemy could hit us anytime between now and then," Lord Alexander said. He paused for a few moments before he added, "Tomorrow, we would repeat the same process, and we can hope that the enemy would actually come out from wherever they are hiding and offer us battle," a smile graced the features of Lord Alexander before he added, "All this patrolling and maneuvering at sea is getting overshadowed by the events on the ground."

Captain Nelson smiled as well, though he knew that the words that came out from the mouth of Lord Alexander were just in jest.

He also knew that as soon as the sun starts to set, there would be little chance of an engagement with the North African armored cruisers. While _all _Britannian warships – even the destroyers and the even smaller sloops – have effective night-fighting systems – radar amongst them – the North African armored cruisers – being an older Prussian design – have no radar and would have to rely on searchlights that work both ways and human optics. In such a fight, they would be at a disadvantage. Of course, the smaller North African warships have radar, but according to intelligence, the North African Fleet only has a handful of such warships.

"Radar contact," the radar operator suddenly reported. Both Lord Alexander and Captain Nelson turned their attention toward the direction of the man, and was already staring when the radar operator continued, "Due south, bearing zero-one-four, closure rate at nineteen knots."

"Definitely not one of ours, then," Lord Alexander commented. Britannian standard calls for all warships to cruise at twenty knots or above, unless there are other extenuating circumstances. Most Britannian warships were designed to cruise at twenty knots or even above for that reason.

"Coming from south, however," Captain Nelson reported.

"Only proves that even we can be surprised by the fog of war," Lord Alexander reported. The fact that these might be a civilian convoy never even entered the minds of either officer, for the simple reason that the ships are not on the surface of the sea. Britannia may have civilian warships – with naval reserve pennants though – but the North Africans – or any country for that matter – do not.

"Sir, with your permission, I would like to go to action stations," Captain Nelson said.

Lord Alexander turned his attention toward his flag-captain and gave him a smile, "The running of the ship is the duty of the captain, Captain," he replied.

Captain Nelson nodded toward his commander before he turned his attention toward his executive officer who promptly left the bridge. Lord Alexander knew that the man would be on his way to the Action Control Room, which would be his action station. Theoretically, this would prevent command and control from being disrupted in case a lucky shell manages to hit the bridge, but with _HMS Iron Duke_ being the flagship, a hit at the bridge may prove more than devastating.

At the same time, Captain Nelson grabbed a microphone connected with the internal public announcement system of the ship. The captain flipped a switch on one of the control consoles beside him – and as a result, sirens began blaring all over the vessel, warning the crew of the action station order – before the captain announced, "Now hear this, now hear this, action stations, action stations, enemy warships detected, approaching our position from the north, all hands, man action stations."

Almost immediately, everyone inside the bridge began to don their survival gear. For warships at sea, the survival gear typically consists only of a life jacket that would enable the person wearing the same to float, but since the ships of today float in the sky rather than the sea, such a vest would be of little use. Sure, it could still be used to prevent the person from drowning in case of ditching over sea, but if the velocity of the person who had jumped is not checked, then there would be little need to float because the man would most likely be dead from the impact.

Hence, the addition of a small parachute with the survival gear.

Lord Alexander watched with his arms across his chest as the bridge crew busied themselves with checking their survival gear. At the same time, his three closest officers – Admiral Cline, Vice Admiral Ashford, and Vice Admiral Granger – joined him. Vice Admiral Granger was the one who handed Lord Alexander the survival gear and loath as he was to accept the gears, the Archduke knew that he has no choice.

The General-Admiral knew that it is not his job to set a bad example to his men, hence, the reason why he donned the survival gear even if he would rather not.

"Additional radar contact from the south," the radar operator reported, "bearing zero-two-eight, closure at nineteen knots."

"They have not detected us," Captain Nelson said as he joined Lord Alexander and his staff officer. He turned his attention toward Lord Alexander and reported, "we are one hundred percent action stations, Admiral, all other ships report one hundred percent."

Lord Alexander nodded, but did not say anything, and for a few minutes, the bridge was silent save for the constant reports coming from the radar operator, detailing the approach of the North African warships.

At one point during the wait, the destroyers of the 5th and 16th Destroyer Squadrons had rejoined the formation, and the light cruisers of the 9th Light Cruiser Squadron had reported that they are on their way back. Harry also entered the bridge during the wait. Not being a part of the crew of the warship, Harry and his mages – those that had accompanied him for this transfer – have no action stations, but Harry reported to Lord Alexander that he had ordered his mages to provide as much assistance as they could to the other departments of the warship.

"Lead enemy ships entering maximum gun range, momentarily," the radar operator reported.

"Sir, gunnery director request to fire ranging shots," a communications officer reported.

"Establish the range with as few shots as possible," Captain Nelson replied, and after the message was relayed, he turned his attention forward, toward his 'A' turret.

Sure enough, the turret moved even as the rightmost gun housed in the turret swiveled up. The rotation of the turrets of the _Duke_-class warship was rated at six degrees per second, and when the gun was pointed at the right direction, there was a thundering sound. At the same time, the bow of the ship was covered in a black cloud of smoke that rapidly dissipated.

No one in the ship could have seen the ranging shell leaving the barrel of the twenty-inch gun. Travelling at a muzzle velocity of more than eight hundred meters per second, it was all but impossible to actually watch.

"Gunnery director reports enemy destroyers," the communications officer reported, "but there are bigger warships coming behind them."

"Not unusual for them to assign escorts," Admiral Cline commented.

"Sir, gunnery director reports that the range has been established," came another report, "Permission to open fire with main guns requested."

"Radar, what is our relative range?" Captain Nelson asked.

"Now at fourteen hundred meters and closing, captain," the radar operator reported, "enemy bearing has turned zero-one-five, approaching at twenty four knots."

Captain Nelson turned toward the man in command of the fleet and the division, but Lord Alexander had his attention somewhere else, "They are trying to get in range," he commented, he turned toward Captain Nelson before he added, "Their destroyers have torpedoes, correct?"

Captain Nelson nodded, "twenty one-inch torpedoes, I believe, yes sir," he replied, "Probable maximum range at just a little over four kilometers, but at that range, they would be well within range of our secondary guns," he paused before he added, "We would have fired them before they could get within range to release torpedoes."

"Still that is not a reason for us not to send greetings to our adversaries," Lord Alexander said, he turned toward his staff and smiled before he returned his attention toward his flag-captain and gave him a nod before he added, "You may fire as your bear, Captain."

Captain Nelson acknowledged the order with a nod of his own before he turned toward the communications operator who had made the report.

Standing beside his liege lord, Harry watched the controlled chaos that was descending on the bridge, but the young lieutenant commander knew that he would rather be here than inside one of the turrets where the temperature would soon rise and vision would be impaired somewhat by clouds. Those turret crews also have no idea what they are shooting at because they could not see outside, though Harry supposed that that is not a problem since the job of the turret crew is to feed the guns so as to allow them to continue firing.

The young wizard watched as the 'B' turret swung to the port side of the vessel – 'A' turret was already pointing toward that direction – and the three guns that were housed inside the armored turret swiveled up in response to the commands that were being fed to them by the gunnery director. Harry had no problem imagining the two other turrets to the rear of the ship – 'Z' turret and 'Y' turret – also swivel toward the direction of the North African warships.

The turrets housing the eight-inch guns, however, did not swivel, though Harry realized that that is because those guns are not yet in range of the approaching North African warships.

Actual control for firing the guns was not located inside the turrets themselves. Instead, guns were fired from the position of the gunnery director at one of the fire control towers – the actual highest position in the warship – with redundancy located at the Action Control Room and the other fire control towers. Inside the turret, the only thing that the seven men crew of each gun has to worry about was feeding the mighty guns with the solid armor-piercing shells – or any other type of shells that could be used by the guns – and cordite, the propellant for the shells.

Further musings on the part of Harry were interrupted when all guns of the flagship stamped their presence. The sound made when the ranging shot was fired was loud, but it was dwarfed by the thunderous sound made by all twelve guns firing at the same time.

"_Hermione_ and _Arethusa_ reports full broadside as well," one of the communications operator inside the bridge reported, "_Leda_ and _Daphne_ do not have range yet, and are holding fire."

Captain Nelson responded to the report, but exactly what the flag-captain had said, Harry did not hear because at that moment, he turned his attention toward the south, toward the approaching North African warships.

Harry knew that those destroyers would be maneuvering, they would be stupid not to. Although they have not yet made visual contact – and their radar is primitive – they should already be aware that they have been spotted. The ranging shot fired by the flagship to establish the range should have told them that.

At the same time, though, Harry knew that the shells being used by Britannian warships are capped with proximity fuses that could somewhat tell if they are going to narrowly miss their target. In such a case, the small electronic device would cause the bomb to explode. This would, in theory, cause some damage to the target, although such damage would not be a critical damage.

"North African capital ships visual confirmation," a communications officer reported. That tore Harry out of his reverie. The North African armored cruisers, after all, are the real target of this trap, and it seems that the North Africans are coming out to play.

"How soon before our destroyers rendezvous with us?" Lord Alexander suddenly asked. The General-Admiral of the Britannian Grand Fleet removed his hands from over his chest and walked toward the navigation table in front of him – his staff following behind him – while Captain Nelson also approached the navigation table.

"16th DD is closer to our position now, Admiral and would rendezvous with us in about twenty minutes," Captain Nelson reported, "5th DD, however, while still twenty to thirty minutes out is in a prime position as they are approaching from the south, they are closer to the approaching targets than 16th DD."

"Where is 9th CL?" Lord Alexander asked, naming the 9th Light Cruiser Squadron.

"Radio reports from Rear Admiral Baffin places them about forty minutes out," Captain Nelson replied, "They are approaching from the north sir, so they would not be of much assistance even if they are close."

Harry caught Lord Alexander nod, but there was absolutely no hesitation with the voice of the General-Admiral when he gave his next set of instructions, "Instruct 5th DD to launch a torpedo salvo against the North African armored cruisers," he ordered, "Just in case, move 16th DD to a position where they would be able to launch a torpedo salvo against the cruisers later."

Lord Alexander motioned for Harry to come over just as Captain Nelson moved to relay the instructions given by Lord Alexander.

"You understand don't you?" Lord Alexander asked.

Harry nodded, "The main target has always been the armored cruisers," he replied, "I would not really matter who will sink them, because this is the Grand Fleet."

Lord Alexander smiled, "Indeed," he replied. Everyone was aware of the fact that in the Grand Fleet, it does not matter who sinks who. In the Home Fleet, the battleships and battlecruisers are always arguing about honors and who sank what and who, which translates to poor working relationship between the captains and admirals that are supposed to be working with each other.

Of course, what made it worst is the fact that the Home Fleet had not been in direct combat in more than thirty years. The three other fleets had held the line without the need for the Home Fleet to enter the fray. Sometimes, people – especially those in the three other fleets – wonder if that is the reason why the Duke of Virginia – the first born son of the Archduke of Rosenbaum and Crown Prince of the Holy Empire – was in command of the fleet.

Still, others wonder if it is because of the Duke of Virginia that the Home Fleet acts the way that it does.

"Why torpedoes, Harry?" Lord Alexander asked.

"Although they are more expensive than armor-piercing shells, torpedoes pack a higher punch," Harry replied dutifully, "Our torpedoes also have a longer range than theirs and while they are being distracted by the artillery the battleships are firing, the torpedoes from out of nowhere may be able to sneak in."

"Without effective radar, those torpedoes are going to be coming from nowhere for those armored cruisers," Lord Alexander added. He sighed once before he nodded toward Harry, "That was basic, of course, but it seems that fighting on your foot instead of fighting aboard a battlewagon had done nothing to what you have learned at the Academy."

"I learned from the best, sir," Harry replied.

Lord Alexander shook his head but did not say anything, rather, the General-Admiral returned to the developing battle, crossing his arms over his chest once more.

"Those cruisers would be gunning for us," Vice Admiral Ashford suddenly said, "Their skippers and commanding officers would probably be having tunnel vision."

Lord Alexander nodded before he turned his attention toward his chief military advisor and said, "I would have wanted to ambush them with torpedoes coming from their port, starboard, and bow," the General-Admiral sighed before he shook his head and added, "We have to make do with what we are given by chance and fate."

Silence descended around the bridge – well, silence save for the occasional reports coming from the gunnery director, relayed by several communications operator inside the bridge, and the reports coming from the radar operator also inside the bridge – after Lord Alexander gave the order for his ships to drop speed to one-fourth cruise. By slowing down, Lord Alexander hope to allow the big guns of his battleship to come to bear against the approaching North African armored cruisers.

The Archduke knew that subjecting those armored cruisers to artillery bombardment far from their effective range would lower the morale of the crew of those ships, and if the destroyers get lucky and score some hits with their torpedoes – probably even a kill, which is not impossible given that the torpedoes being used by the destroyers are the big twenty four-inch Hammerhead torpedoes – such a bombardment would probably cause the North Africans to turn around and return home.

That, however, is not the intention of Lord Alexander. The General-Admiral had made it clear that he has no intention of allowing the North Africans to return back to their home base, or at least, not without scoring a decisive victory here and now.

"Enemy destroyers now in visual range," a communications operator – relaying from the gunnery director – reported.

Harry moved toward the port side of the bridge, near the shatter-proof, bullet-proof glass that protected the occupants of the bridge from the elements but allowed them to see. A member of the bridge-crew handed him a pair of binoculars which Harry accepted without a word.

Barely a second had passed since he first held the visual tool before Harry was looking through it toward the direction of where the North Africans are coming from. Harry knew that even if the destroyers are already in visual range, he would not be able to actually see the destroyers without the help of the binoculars, never mind the fact that his eyesight was so weak he had to wear glasses.

'_There,'_ Harry thought. The North African destroyers were based on Prussian destroyers, and that is the reason why they look like skeletons compared with the bulkier Britannian destroyers.

An explosion on the deck of one of the North African destroyers tore Harry out of his reverie, but he kept his gaze toward the destroyers. Harry knew that the secondary batteries aboard the battleships have opened up. Although those secondary batteries – five-inch guns – could have fired beyond visual range, Harry knew that they are usually used for defensive purposes, and he supposed that the approaching destroyers – that are now turning to their port in succession – are about to launch their torpedoes. Preventing them from launching those torpedoes would qualify as defense.

Those five-inch secondary guns, Harry knew, fired a combination of high explosive and incendiary rounds. Although capable of indirect fire like the main batteries, secondary batteries being used for ship defense fire in the direct.

Another explosion on the lead destroyer was quickly followed by a secondary detonation on the deck of the North African warship. At that moment, however, the North African destroyers are running parallel to the course of the Britannian battleships. Harry actually managed to look at the grim faces of the destroyer crew as they struggled to bring their torpedoes to bear, all the while being caught in the open while being shelled by the secondary batteries – the primary batteries have stopped firing, conserving their ammunition and cordite for the approaching North African armored cruisers – and battling the fires that had started – sometimes literally beside them.

When the torpedo launch did come, it was not aimed straight toward the battleships. That would have been a waste. Instead, the torpedoes were launched at a course that is convergent with the Britannian battleships.

"Torpedoes have been launched," a member of the bridge crew – who, like Harry, was watching the North African destroyers with the help of binoculars – reported, but unlike Harry, the man had spotted something that Harry had not, "Enemy destroyers are bugging out, but the lead destroyer has already lost considerable speed and appears to be descending steadily."

'_Critical damage?'_ Harry thought, he returned his attention toward the lead destroyer – deciding that he really did not need to see the look on the face of his liege lord – and watched as it continued to belch smoke from its stacks. The stacks, however, were not the primary source of the smoke that was even then threatening to hide the North African destroyer, rather, it would appear that the smokes from the fires on the deck of the lead destroyer was burning out of control.

Shedding altitude would allow the crew of the destroyer to bail out of the warship, but as with every ship that can sail the skies, that was always a race of just what would happen first, either the ship would descend to an altitude where the crew can bail and deploy their parachutes, or the ship would tear itself apart either through an explosion in the magazine, or the ship would just come apart in the stress.

"Lead destroyer bailing," the same man who reported the impending death of the lead destroyer reported. Sure enough, Harry watched as the crew of the North African destroyer jumped from their ship. Quite a few of the men had the survival gear around their waist and behind their back – and parachutes were quick to open – but there would always be those who would not be wearing them, and quite a few of them always jump.

Harry, however, supposed that that was the choice and he does not know what he would do if he is placed at that exact situation. Either face death by being burned when the explosion comes or death when he hits the ground at a velocity.

The young naval officer removed the binoculars from his eyes and returned his attention toward Lord Alexander. As he had expected, the General-Admiral was already planning for the engagement with the approaching North African destroyer, and when Harry turned his attention toward him, Lord Alexander looked as if he was receiving a report from Captain Nelson.

"…reports that North African armored cruisers are divided into two squadrons," Harry heard Captain Nelson said, "second squadron, final two ships, had been hit by torpedo spread from the destroyers of 5DD."

"That should at least decrease their speed," Admiral Cline commented. The chief-of-staff to the General-Admiral turned his attention toward the navigation table – and it was now online, displaying information critical to the battle planning – before he added, "16DD should come within torpedo range soon, let us see what kind of damage they would deal."

"It would never be enough," Vice Admiral Ashford commented.

"Gunnery director reports that all guns are primed and ready to fire, they are merely awaiting targets," Captain Nelson said, he looked at Lord Alexander before he added, "As soon as those armored cruisers come within range, we can open fire."

"Sir," Vice Admiral Granger thought to add his thoughts and Lord Alexander turned toward him, "Those armored cruisers are equipped with torpedoes, engaging them in line may very well be exactly what they want us to do."

"Right now, we have incoming torpedoes," Captain Nelson said, "We're intercepting."

Harry knew that the first – actually, the only – defense against torpedoes aboard Britannian warships would be the heavy machineguns mounted along the railings of the warship. The heavy rounds of those guns cannot deflect a torpedo with just one round, but that is the reason why machineguns are employed. Of course, it would be better to actually shoot the ship launching the torpedoes before he could do that.

"North African destroyers have completely bugged out, Captain," one of the bridge crew reported, Captain Nelson turned toward the direction of the man making the report before the man added, "We took down three of their destroyers and the other two are limping back."

"Let that be a lesson on how stupid it is to send a destroyer division – or five – against the 9th Battleship Division," Captain Nelson said with a smile.

Harry could not help but smile at that declaration as well. He had heard some declarations – mostly from the crew of the ships that form up the 9th Battleship Division – that Lord Alexander's battleship division is the most powerful in the world. Of course, that may very well be true; after all, no other battleship division in the world could field twelve twenty-inch guns and sixty eighteen-inch guns – not to mention hundreds of smaller caliber guns – against an opponent. When one considers the fact that the division is commanded by Lord Alexander, then the division really has no equal.

"Sir, 16DD reports that they have launched torpedoes and are pulling out to rendezvous with us at maximum best speed," one of the bridge crew reported, "5DD also reports that they have visual range of flagship and would rejoin the formation in fifteen minutes."

Lord Alexander nodded, acknowledging the report. He turned his attention toward his staff – including Harry and Captain Nelson – and a grin appeared on his face, a sharp predatory grin – before he said, "Now, now we are going to be engaged by those armored cruisers,"


	22. Chapter XXII

**A/N: **I do not own Harry Potter or anything associated with it.

* * *

**EMPIRE**

**TWENTY TWO**

**Aboard **_**HMS Iron Duke**__, _**Lord Alexander Fleet Flagship**

**On Transit, Malta to Gibraltar, **

**April 24, 2015**

The advent of _HMS Dreadnought_ in 1906 changed many things in naval warfare, and the most notable of these changes was the fact that naval warfare would now no longer be fought while confined to the surface of the water. Warships can now take to the air, and it was in the air where they would now exchange naval artillery and cannon fire as they tried to enforce their superiority over the other.

There are, however, some things about naval warfare that would always remain the same, and the construction and positioning of the guns of a warship was one of those things that are unlikely to change anytime soon.

The positioning of the guns of a warship – with the main batteries placed fore and aft of the ship in massive rotating turrets – meant that the most optimum position of a warship when exchanging fire would be when the target is to the side of the ship. This meant that all of the guns of the ship could be brought to bear against the target, while the target could only answer the challenge with their batteries positioned to the fore of their warship.

Of course, with the formation of choice being the single line – in order to facilitate easy communication with flags and lights as well as for torpedo security – this meant that only the ship at the front of the formation could actually return fire with their main batteries positioned to the fore of the ship.

In naval parlance, this was called 'Crossing the T', and many a naval commander had attempted to Cross the T of his opponent in order to bring to bear every gun that he has under his command against the limited response that his opponent could bring.

That was exactly the position that the 9th Battleship Division and the North African Armored Cruiser strike force found themselves in as the armored cruisers approached the position of the battleships.

_HMS Iron Duke_ actually shuddered as if she was hit by a small earthquake every single time that her main batteries – twelve of the largest naval guns in service – would mark their presence. It was as if the hull stabilizers of the ship were being going to give up at any time and the huge ship – which weighed in at more than a hundred thousand tons – would plunge into the sea below it, but those aboard the warship knew that the stabilizers were more than capable of handling the stress.

The huge guns of the _Iron Duke_ were supplemented by the relatively smaller eight-inch guns that are the intermediate battery of the ship. Unlike the twenty-inch artillery, the eight-inchers do not make the ship shudder, but everyone knew that those at the receiving end of the massive artillery bombardment are shuddering.

Especially when one considers that the four other battleships of the 9th Battleship Division – all armed with twelve eighteen-inch guns – are also stamping their presence at the field.

As he stood at the port side of the bridge with a pair of binoculars pressed against the lens of his glasses – so much so that his glasses was cutting an indention on the bridge of his nose – Harry watched – through his binoculars – as the surface of the water above of which the North African armored cruisers were sailing. Geysers and fountains of water would erupt from the surface of the Mediterranean every now and then as Britannian shells exploded underneath the surface of the water.

The battleships had just opened fire a mere two minutes ago, and while they have already established the range, the gunnery directors had not yet requested permission to load the more efficient proximity-fused armor-piercing shells. Rather, the guns were still firing the normal high explosive rounds. Harry knew that the proximity-fused high-explosive shells are not being loaded because the warships carry precious few of them. Although more efficient, standard Britannian practice was to cement the range first with the high-explosives before switching to armor piercing.

There was also the fact that armor piercing shells work better when the target is closer to consider.

Harry removed the binoculars from his eyes at the same time that he turned his attention toward the man who stood beside him. Lord Alexander also had a pair of binoculars pressed against his eyes, but unlike Harry, the General-Admiral of the Britannian Grand Fleet had his full attention toward the approaching armored cruisers.

Harry supposed that that was normal. After all, Lord Alexander is the commander of the Grand Fleet, and the man wants to be able to watch the developing battle with his own eyes, even if his field of vision was limited.

The fact that his senior staff – Admiral Cline, Vice Admiral Ashford, and Vice Admiral Granger – were also scanning the horizon with their own binoculars – or in the case of Vice Admiral Ashford, with a more powerful pedestal mounted field telescope – would not change the fact that Lord Alexander only has a limited field of view of the developing battle. The General-Admiral would have to depend upon the data that would be provided by other ships and systems in order to be able to see a larger portion of the battle, but even with all those, in the middle of the battle, the field of vision would always be limited.

Behind Lord Alexander, the skipper of the flagship – Captain Nelson – continued to fight his ship, coordinating with the various sensors, communications, and weapons department in order to attain maximum efficiency and to score some hits. The flagship has already been credited with one kill – a North African light cruiser that attempted to close in with the flagship for a torpedo shot – with the secondary batteries, but Captain Nelson – and his crew – was determined to get at least one armored cruiser kill today.

By this time, the North African strike force had already lost two destroyers and a light cruiser, while two more light cruisers were observed to be on fire as they ran away at flank speed. The story is the same for two more North African destroyers.

In contrast, reports indicate that the 9th Battleship Group had only suffered two destroyers damaged, one heavily enough for Lord Alexander to send the destroyer straight back to Malta rather than allow it to risk the journey back to Gibraltar. At Malta, emergency repairs would make the destroyer seaworthy enough to make the journey to Gibraltar and its more extensive ship repair facilities.

The flagship shuddered once more as the twenty-inch guns once more marked their presence upon the field. Harry hurriedly brought his binoculars up in order to watch the shells as they landed amidst the North African armored cruisers.

At the same time that Harry turned his binoculars toward the direction of the lead North African armored cruiser, his vision was suddenly obscured by thick clouds of smoke that seemingly came out of nowhere. Harry knew, however that the smoke came from the fore batteries of the North African cruiser.

"They're finally returning fire," Lord Alexander commented, forcing Harry to turn his attention away from the approaching North African warships and toward his liege lord. He had turned his attention toward Lord Alexander just in time to watch the Archduke of England say, "It should not matter, though, because those guns are too small and too few in number to make a difference."

Seemingly suddenly becoming aware that Harry was staring at him, Lord Alexander placed his binoculars down and turned his attention toward Harry, "What would be the best move available to the North Africans at this stage?" he asked.

It was a text-book questions, Harry knew, and because Harry was an alumnus of the Naval Academy, he knew the answer. That, however, told Harry that his liege lord was seeking another answer, and it was not the answer that was at the text.

The students of the Naval Academy were taught aggressiveness, but they never forgot to instill a sense of caution and practicability in the psyche of their students.

"I would turn," Harry said simply a few moments later. It was not the text book answer. The text book answer was 'when confronted with a situation where you are forced to cross the enemy's t, you should raise to flank speed and charge the enemy with the intention of forcing a pell-mell battle.'

Lord Alexander smiled, and Harry knew that he got the correct answer, "Turn," Lord Alexander nodded, "The North Africans are qualitatively inferior, charging us would only mean that they would be suffering needless casualties," Lord Alexander returned his attention toward the direction of the approaching North African armored cruisers and added, "Fleets exist for functional purposes, and the function of the North African armored cruisers is not to fight against us, but rather, to remain as a fleet in being and force us to take them into account when we make plans."

'_Which means that the objective of the ambush was already accomplished even before the first round was fired from the flagship,'_ Harry thought.

Harry also returned his attention toward the direction of the North African armored cruisers at the same time that the twenty-inch guns of the flagship marked their presence upon the field once more.

"They should be turning right about now," Lord Alexander said. The General-Admiral placed his binoculars down once more, but this time, he also turned toward the direction of Vice Admiral Ashford who had also abandoned his larger and more capable pedestal mounted field binoculars.

A look was exchanged from the two men, and Harry realized that both men had something planned. Given that Lord Alexander had already told Harry what he thinks is the best response on the part of the approaching North Africans, it stands to reason that whatever it was that Lord Alexander and Vice Admiral Ashford had planned, it was in response to the North Africans turning away from the battle line of the 9th Battleship Division.

"Should we launch, sir?" Vice Admiral Ashford asked.

Lord Alexander shook his head, "No," he replied, "Let them come, we will sink them with the sheer weight of our guns, but I think that whoever is in command of those cruisers would realize that to continue their attack would be a pointless waste of life," a grim smile crossed the features of Lord Alexander before he added, "for them."

Vice Admiral Ashford nodded before he returned his attention toward the direction of the approaching North Africans. By this time, the North African armored cruisers were already close enough that the chief military advisor to the General-Admiral of the Grand Fleet had produced a pair of binoculars out of nowhere to use, instead of the more powerful pedestal mounted field binoculars.

"Admiral," Captain Nelson reported, "The North African armored cruisers are close enough so that the gunnery directors are requesting permission to switch shells to the proximity shells."

Lord Alexander nodded, "Very well, order the switch, and pass along the instruction to the other ships in the division," Lord Alexander said.

"Yes, Admiral," Captain Nelson replied. There was a brief moment of hesitation, before the flag-captain added, "Sir, communications reports that the North African fire is inconsistent with targeting, they are firing on every single one of our battleships instead of focusing their fire on one."

Lord Alexander paused for a few moments, "They're not sure what they're doing," he concluded, "unsurprising given their relative inexperience with blue-water naval engagements."

"Not to mention their current position," Admiral Cline added, the chief-of-staff of Lord Alexander turned his attention toward his commander and said, "I would think we are within range of their guns by now, they should have maneuvered to parallel us."

"They know that they cannot match our firepower," Lord Alexander said. The General-Admiral paused for a few moments before he shook his head, "They will turn soon enough, or they would be destroyer by our guns as they continue to move forward, or if they were to parallel us and challenge us on a one-on-one basis, the results would still be the same."

Almost everyone inside the bridge nodded their agreement to that assessment. There just was no way that the armored cruisers could stand toe-to-toe with the battleships of the 9th Battleship Division. The North African armored cruisers may have been numerically superior – with eight hulls compared to the five hulls of the 9th Battleship Division – but in terms of quality, the North African cruisers were at the receiving end.

Their main batteries – six twelve-inch guns each – and their secondary batteries – sixteen five-inch guns – were so small, they probably would not even dent the outer armor of the _Hermione_-class battleships of the 9th Battleship Division. The North African armored cruisers – renamed the _Saladin-_class in North African service – however, are equipped with torpedoes. Eighteen-inch torpedoes in bow tubes, though it remains a mystery why they have not opened fire with those torpedoes just yet.

"Sir," one of the radar operators in the bridge suddenly reported, and the way that he reported tore the attention of every member of the command staff toward him. Normally, that would have been very bad, and that would have caused the man who caused the disturbance to be embarrassed, but not this operator, because he has something important to report, "Approaching targets appear to be turning."

"Succession or simultaneous?' Captain Nelson asked, and though that question was meant for the radar operator, the flag-captain had his attention toward Lord Alexander when he asked that question.

There was, however, no confusion, because everyone inside the bridge knew who that question was addressed to, and the man who could answer the question was quick to answer, "It appears to be a simultaneous turn, sir," he replied.

"There was a Prussian admiral back in the early part of the 20th Century who incorporated such a maneuver in the maneuver book of his fleet," Lord Alexander commented almost immediately, "It was supposed to be a maneuver that would be placed into effect should they ever find themselves at the receiving end of the guns of our Grand Fleet."

"Well, the unit that is executing the maneuver is at the receiving ends of the guns of the our Grand Fleet, Admiral," Vice Admiral Ashford commented a few moments later, "And those ships, despite flying the North African ensign, are Prussian in design," a smile came across the face of Vice Admiral Ashford as he continued, "Why, those hips are so old, had Admiral Scheer lived for a few more years, he probably would have seen those ships."

Lord Alexander managed a smile at that, but that was his only outward reaction. A few seconds of pregnant silence descended inside the bridge as the command staff waited for further orders, and Lord Alexander was quick to seize the moment, "Signal to _Huntington Lake_," Lord Alexander commented, he turned toward the direction of the communications officer and everyone could see a small grim smile on the face of their General-Admiral as he added, "Let loose the dogs of war."

**Aboard **_**HMS Huntington Lake**_**, Vice Admiral Christopher Baffin Flagship**

**On Transit, Malta to Gibraltar, **

**April 24, 2015**

A grin came across the face of Vice Admiral Christopher Baffin when his flag-captain brought him the signal that had just been received from the fleet flagship. The order that he had received from Lord Alexander was one that had been received in advance and the signal was mere confirmation of the order, but it still brought a smile upon the face of the Vice Admiral who was in command of the 9th Light Cruiser Squadron.

Vice Admiral Baffin knew that light cruisers are not the capital ships that battleships, battlecruisers, and aircraft carriers are. Light cruisers are not even as heavily armed or armored as their bigger brethren, the armored cruisers and the heavy cruisers, but light cruisers are an essential part of a fleet precisely because they are light. That translated to being faster, more maneuverable, and more agile.

They also carry torpedoes, and the order that the commander of the 9th Light Cruiser Squadron had just received was to put those torpedoes into play.

Vice Admiral Baffin turned his attention toward his flag-captain and gave the man a nod. Like the squadron commander, the flag-captain was well aware of the orders that Lord Alexander had given in advance, and without another word being spoken between the two highest ranking men inside the bridge, the flag-captain turned his attention away from his commander and toward his communications operator.

"Signal to the squadron," the flag-captain ordered, "Commence 'Werewolf'."

It took two minutes for the order to be sent and for the three other light cruisers in the squadron to acknowledge the order, but once the order was acknowledged by every ship in the squadron, the command was given, and almost immediately, Vice Admiral Baffin felt the machinery in his flagship take to the task.

_HMS Huntington Lake_ is a _Lake Greenwood_-class light cruiser – just like the three other ships in the squadron – and at full burn, the ships of the class can achieve thirty knots. That thirty knot was the speed marker that the squadron was trying to achieve as they accelerated toward the North African armored cruisers in order to put into action their most powerful weapon.

"Approaching torpedo range in five minutes," the flag-captain reported, he turned toward Vice Admiral Baffin and reported, "Torpedoes report ready to fire."

There are two sets of torpedo batteries aboard a _Lake Greenwood_-class light cruiser, with both firing the big twenty four-inch torpedoes. For this attack, the second battery of torpedo launchers – able to fire five torpedoes in one spread – would be employed.

Vice Admiral Baffin acknowledged the report at the same time that he raised his binoculars to his eyes so that he may see what was going on in front of him. Another smile came across his face as he watched the North African armored cruisers attempt their turn, and for the most part, they are successful, though trying to pull a turn like that while in the middle of an intense artillery bombardment from the huge guns of the 9th Battleship Division was probably motivated more by the fact that they are being fired upon by those big guns.

"Admiral," the flag-captain of his flagship tore Vice Admiral Baffin from what he was watching, and the commander of the 9th Light Cruiser Squadron turned his attention toward his flag-captain with a questioning look upon his face, "We are in torpedo range."

"Launch torpedoes," Vice Admiral Baffin ordered, though before his flag-captain can acknowledge that order, the commander of the 9th Light Cruiser Squadron added, "Let's make sure we get some kills with this salvo, Captain."

"Aye, sir," his flag-captain replied, before the man turned toward his bridge crew and gave the order to launch the torpedo salvo.

It would take a few minutes before the orders could be relayed and before the torpedoes could actually be launched, and it would take a few more minutes before the torpedoes could actually reach their target, but Vice Admiral Baffin already had his binoculars pressed against his eyes and had them pointed toward the direction of the still maneuvering North African armored cruisers.

The commander of the 9th Light Cruiser Squadron barely heard the report of his flag-captain that the torpedoes have been launched, and the only indication that he gave that he heard the report was to place a tiny grin on his face. As he was looking toward the direction outside the ship – and away from his flag-captain – no one could actually see the grin on his face.

Vice Admiral Baffin could actually see the torpedoes that his ship had fired as it raced to intercept the North African armored cruisers. Twenty four inches at the bore and twenty seven feet in length, the torpedoes – nicknamed 'Little John' but was official called as Porpoise – travelled toward their target at a speed exceeding fifty knots. Inside their blunt armor-piercing warheads, high explosives waited for the command from their primitive sensors to detonate.

As one of the men who were actually credited with the production of the Porpoise, Vice Admiral Baffin could not help but take pleasure whenever he sees one of his torpedoes in action. He could very well remember the objections of the top brass to the deployment of the Porpoise, arguing that the relatively short range of the torpedo – and the fact that many torpedo boats were simulated to have been destroyed whenever they were sent in a simulated attack – and their relatively slow speed had made it obsolete.

Not to mention the fact that torpedoes are supposed to be employed against capital ships. Bigger torpedoes meant that they could no longer be mounted effectively on small ships – torpedo boats could only carry four or six of them – so the need to mount them on bigger ships like light cruises. The problem was that light cruisers, while small, are also large enough to be hit by the capital ships. It is conceivable that the light cruisers would be hit by the capital ships as they maneuver to get within effective range.

Lord Alexander was one of those that had championed the torpedo, albeit using a different employment method than that the Vice Admiral Baffin had imagined his boats are capable of. As an ambush weapon, however, Vice Admiral Baffin could concede that his torpedoes are giving results.

An explosion tore Vice Admiral Baffin from his reverie and the commander of the 9th Light Cruiser Squadron turned his attention toward that direction. The explosion was the result of one of his torpedoes – though he is unsure if it was launched from his ship – impacting the hull of the lead North African armored cruiser.

The ball of fire that resulted from the explosive detonation obscured the view of the side of the North African armored cruiser for a few moments, but it subsided relatively quick – though not without causing some fires on the deck of the ship that the crew was now desperately trying to fight off while attempting to rally anyone who could still help.

Vice Admiral Baffin watched as the crew of the armored cruiser – and the crew of her sister ships, no doubt – ran up and down the decks as they scrambled to reach their side-mounted machineguns. Small caliber bullets are relatively ineffective against the torpedoes – and one of the reasons for the twenty four-inch torpedo was because it can deflect the smaller caliber bullets more effectively – but it was the only defense that a ship could employ against torpedoes, unless, of course, one would count armor and torpedo bulkheads, something that the North African armored cruisers lacked.

A satisfied smile came across the face of Vice Admiral Baffin as his bridge was suddenly filled with reports coming from the different light cruisers under his command. All reports indicate that the torpedoes that he had helped designed and fought to be deployed had done exactly what they are supposed to do. The combat debut of his torpedoes is proving to be a success.

The smile on the face of the commander of the 9th Light Cruiser Squadron broadened even more as he received reports from his other cruisers that the torpedoes that they had fired had found their marks. Explosions at the North African lines lead credence to the reports that he had started to receive.

**Aboard **_**HMS Iron Duke**__, _**Lord Alexander Fleet Flagship**

**On Transit, Malta to Gibraltar, **

**April 24, 2015**

Harry had his binoculars pressed against both of his eyes once more, and beside him, Lord Alexander was doing the same. Both men were watching as the 9th Light Cruiser reach a designated firing point before firing their torpedoes and disengaging, maneuvering wildly in order to get out of range of the relatively big guns of the North African armored cruisers.

While those twelve-inch guns could not do serious damage to the armor of a _Hermione_-class battleship, those guns could seriously damage a _Lake Greenwood_-class light cruiser.

"I imagine Vice Admiral Baffin is having fun," Lord Alexander commented as he removed his binoculars from his eyes. He turned toward his chief-of-staff and said, "He's been pushing for a chance to use his torpedoes in battle since the time that we got the Third Sea Lord on our side."

"No doubt he would now be pushing for increased production with the Second Sea Lord," Admiral Cline commented. The Second Sea Lord – Chief of Headquarters – was the man who was in charge of production for the Imperial Fleet. Everything from the shells that are being fired to the huge ships of the Imperial Fleet cannot be constructed without his permission. Of course, one could just go over his head and straight to the First Sea Lord, the Chief of Fleet Operations.

"And they are proving to be quite effective anyway," Lord Alexander commented, but before his chief-of-staff – or anyone else inside the bridge – could say anything, he returned his attention to the battle.

The distance between the battleship line of the 9th Battleship Division and the now retreating North African armored cruisers was getting considerable as more and more minutes passed, and Lord Alexander was prepared to bet that the North Africans are running away for good.

The morale impact of seeing one of their armored cruisers suddenly obscured by a flash of flames – followed closely by more orange balls of fire as more torpedoes impacted the side of the North African armored cruisers – could not be underestimated, and Lord Alexander was sure that the crew and captains of those North African ships have had enough.

One could also not discount the fact that the battleships are still firing their main batteries against the North African capital ships even as the armored cruisers rapidly try to put as much distance as they could between themselves and the guns of the battleship line of Lord Alexander.

The Archduke of England, however, still has not had his fill. In the mind of the General-Admiral of the Britannian Grand Fleet, the more armored cruisers that he could sink in this engagement, the less worries he would have in the future regarding those capital ships. It would also present a serious propaganda coup against the Prussians.

After all, those armored cruisers were supplied by the Prussians, and though those armored cruisers are, at the most, second-rate equipment, they are still Prussian military equipment that the Britannian fleet had swatted out of the sky with the power of their guns and torpedoes.

The press back home would not bother to report that the 9th Battleship Division has some of the most advance war fighting systems of the Holy Empire of Britannia – including a _Duke_-class battleship – while the North African armored cruisers were more than twenty years old.

"Vice Admiral Baffin reports that all of his ships have fired torpedoes and have scored multiple hits," a communications operator reported, "He is requesting permission to launch a second strike against the North African cruisers."

Lord Alexander briefly debated internally about the request of his subordinate. A second torpedo strike would further shake the morale of the North African crews, perhaps, it would be the straw that would break the back of the camel and result into the disintegration of the North African formation.

Those are all good arguments for ordering a second torpedo strike, but at the same time, Lord Alexander knew that this time, the North Africans would be more than prepared to intercept. He had already received reports that the crew of the armored cruisers are manning their – albeit inadequate – anti-torpedo armaments. The Archduke also had no doubt that the North Africans are preparing to fire their main and secondary batteries as the light cruisers come into position.

"No," Lord Alexander replied barely five seconds after the request was relayed, "The enemy would be expecting their second strike and would be more than prepared to intercept, with their main and secondary batteries."

"We could not deny the impact that sinking more of their ships would have, however," Vice Admiral Ashford said.

"I know," Lord Alexander replied, "Which is why we would be chasing after the retreating North Africans," he turned toward Captain Nelson and ordered, "Relay my instructions, have the 9th Light Cruiser Squadron rejoin us at a rendezvous and support us as we chase down the North African capital ships, at the same time, have our destroyers rejoin us to protect our flanks."

Captain Nelson acknowledged the instruction before he turned toward his communications operator to relay his own instructions. A short time later, the flag-captain barked instructions to his helmsman and in response to the command of the enlisted officer who was manning the tiller, the behemoth super-dreadnought that is the flagship of Lord Alexander turned toward the general direction of the retreating North African armored cruisers.

"Would it be in our advantage to engage the enemy in a melee?" Harry asked a few moments later.

Lord Alexander shook his head, "I am aware of what you are trying to tell me, Harry," the Archduke replied, and with a smile, he added, "It just so happened that a melee and close combat is exactly what would be in our favor right now."

Harry paused for a few moments as he tried to digest the claims that Lord Alexander had just given, and a few moments later, his eyes widened when he realized that Lord Alexander was correct in his contention.

It was standard Britannian doctrine to not engage the enemy in close combat and melee, but that standard doctrine was formulated with the Prussian Fleet – and other first rate fleets – in mind. The risk of losing a warship, not to destruction of the warship but to capture – especially from the elite Prussian _luftlancers_– was too great. The technological superiority of Britannia could not be allowed to fall into the hands of anyone, least of all Prussians, and much as the Britannian marines are well trained, well respected, and eager for a fight, there just was no way for a single marine to actually go toe-to-toe with a man encased in steel that is heavily armed with flamethrowers and could fly – well, actually, leap from the deck of their ship to the deck of another ship with the use of relatively simple jump-jets.

In a match with a second – some would argue third – rate naval power like the North African League, however, a closed-in melee is exactly what the Britannian fleet would need. At very close range, there is no need to aim the main batteries, and with twenty-inch and eighteen-inch guns at their call, the battleships of the 9th Battleship Division would – literally – dissolve the North Africans. It would also give the secondary batteries – eight-inch and five-inch guns – much needed exercise.

In addition, there is the possibility of sending over a couple of marines – unarmored and equipped with more conventional weapons, perhaps, but effective against the North African crews – to take a sample of men, possibly even a sample of a ship.

With a silent nod, Harry conceded that the decision of his liege lord to engage in close combat was the correct one, and with a steely determination, he returned his attention toward his liege lord with the intention of asking permission from the man to leave the bridge and head over down to the marine detachment to join with the coming fight.

**Civilian Sector, Gibraltar**

**Gibraltar, Holy Empire of Britannia**

**April 24, 2015**

In a small territory like Gibraltar, it was not unusual for the people to see heavily armed patrols in armored vehicles, especially when one considers the fact that the Holy Empire is actually at war.

No excess attention was, therefore, paid when a column of four Britannian Ground Forces light utility vehicles – all with full crew that are heavily armed – turned toward one of the back alleys of the Britannian possession.

It was a routine patrol, and the fact that there are four vehicles instead of the usual three was not something that most people are concerned about. After all, it was just one additional vehicle, and many of those that watched as the patrol moved about their business are not even aware that the standard Britannian patrol formation in Gibraltar is composed of only three vehicles.

Amongst those who were inside the vehicles, however, this was no routine patrol. Almost all of the soldiers that are now busy checking their equipment – AR22 Assault rifles with mounted grenade launchers for a few of the men, plus P7 pistols – were not even aware that they are now under the control of Imperial Central Intelligence, but nothing would have changed even if they had been made aware of that fact, the men would still be there to do their job.

At the lead vehicle, Sirius Black was too busy coordinating the strike with Imperial Central Intelligence Headquarters to bother checking his equipment. In any case, he was not actually as heavily armed as the soldiers that would be accompanying him for this raid are.

Aside from his non-standard pistol – as a member of Imperial Central Intelligence, he had been trained to make it a point not to use Britannian-standard equipment, just in case – the man who is actually Deputy Station Chief for Gibraltar, Imperial Central Intelligence, has a knife, two concussion grenades, a signal grenade, and his wand. The last, of course, was a weapon of ultimate last resort, because the men with him, or at least most of them, are not aware of the existence of magic.

The mission was one that was given just a few hours ago, and that is the reason why Sirius is not familiar with most of the people that are operating under his command. Nevertheless, it was a mission that came straight from the flagship of Lord Alexander, and _HMS Iron Duke_– fresh from having just beaten off a North African attack that had cost the North Africans at least four ships, including at least one capital ship – had not yet even reached the halfway point from Malta to Gibraltar.

Sirius, however, knew that the mission was one of vital importance, and he knew that it was a mission that Lord Alexander had approved upon recommendation of his own godson. Where Harry had obtained the intelligence that would point to impending action by Prussian agents in Gibraltar, Sirius knew that he would know as soon as the boy arrives at the Britannian bastion and they had been hustled into a secure room for the debriefing.

Sirius shook his head and forced himself to return to the present. As he was seated at the front seat – beside the driver – he could already see the corner that he and the men with him had memorized. He knew that behind that corner awaited Prussian agents who may or may not be aware of their impending arrival. Either way, it would not do him any good to be thinking of something when he and the men under his command – even though it was just temporary command – was about to go into action.

Imperial Intelligence would have been happy leaving behind the Prussian agents alone, because intelligence knew about them anyway, and as long as they do not do anything that might endanger the security of Britannia in the area, the agency was willing to let them stay.

Things changed when Harry passed on the intelligence – where he got them, Sirius really intends to ask his godson about – that there is the possibility of Prussian action in Gibraltar. Whether or not that intelligence is actually reliable, however, had been ignored because it was Lord Alexander who had made the call.

The suddenness of the operation was so much so that Sirius actually has no idea exactly – or even vaguely – of what mission it was that the Prussians are supposed to be launching that would necessitate the fall of the Britannian hammer at them.

The lead vehicle suddenly accelerated, but the men inside the lead vehicle hardly noticed that. Aside from the driver and Sirius, there were four other men inside the Husky Fast Response Vehicle, and all four pulled the charging handle of their assault rifles the same moment that the vehicle accelerated, precluding them from noticing the sudden acceleration.

Behind the lead vehicle, the three other trucks also accelerated, but they only matched the speed of the lead vehicle so as not to cause them to crash into the tail of the truck. At the appropriate distance, the driver suddenly eased his foot off of the acceleration pedal. The vehicle did not actually slow down one bit, but the roar of the engine did subside.

The driver pulled hard on the handbrake at the same time that skillfully turned the steering wheel so that the vehicle was oriented toward the direction of the alley where the Prussian agents were waiting. There was no way that the screech of those brakes, or the sound of the tires burning, could have been kept quiet, so Sirius knew that everyone would have been alerted as to their approach.

Fortunately, the Prussian agents had failed to place lookouts outside of the building where Intelligence suspects them to be, though the Deputy Station Chief was prepared to bet that that was because those agents judged that being concealed is better than being prepared. Sirius was going to make them regret that decision, at the same time that he thanked the fates that the Prussians had made that choice.

The doors of the trucks were opened and men were jumping out and heading toward their targets even before the trucks had actually stopped. Each of the three trucks that followed behind that of Sirius had a mounted weapons station at the roof, and a soldier from each of the truck quickly clambered up to the roof to man the heavy machinegun that was mounted there, ready to provide covering fire should it prove necessary.

The man who is in charge of protecting the whole of Gibraltar against foreign spy operations watched calmly even as the soldiers that had been placed under his command for this operation assembled, falling into neat lines with their assault rifles at the ready.

There are three houses that are supposed to be the target of this operation. The one at the center is the one that Imperial Intelligence had identified as the safe house of Prussian agents – it was identified through a two month long observation and clandestine investigation process – while the two houses at the side would be targeted in order to prevent the Prussian agents from fleeing into those houses and into the open.

It was for that reason that the force that would be sent into those houses would be relatively smaller than the nine men heavy assault team that was going into the house in the middle.

The sound of compressed gas being released from its pressurized container tore Sirius out of his reverie and he turned his attention toward the source of the sound.

The mean-looking hook, together with its tube firing mechanism and the chain that dangled from behind the tube was officially referred to as BW2 Breach Mechanism, but the troops who are used to using the weapon refer to it as the Trident.

Sirius watched as the man who fired the Trident ran toward the direction of one of the utility vehicles. After he had attached the chain behind the hook to one of the tow mechanism of the vehicle, the soldier signaled and the truck accelerated forward. Not fast enough to actually get out of the street, but enough to generate enough force in order to pull the wooden door of the house at the center out of its place, creating an instant breach where alert soldiers started tossing flash grenades into.

Although not lethal, the flash grenades are an essential weapon in the arsenal of soldiers going for breach. Containing enough chemicals in them to temporarily blind and deafen people caught within its blast radius, it is necessary when the goal of the operation is to capture rather than to kill, and this is a capture mission.

Of course, those flash grenades do not chose who they would affect. That is the reason why the soldiers who tossed them were careful not to be caught by the explosion of the same.

As the soldiers entered the building, they were shouting at the top of their lungs for everyone inside to raise their hands. With the effect of the flash grenades, no one inside the house was raising their hands. It was not that they cannot, it was just that they are temporarily blind and deaf. Even if they want to, they would not have been able to hear the instructions.

At the same time that the soldiers that are part of the assault team tossed flash grenades into the breach, the soldiers of the two blocking teams entered the two houses at the flanks. Unlike their assault at the Prussian safe house, the two teams entered using a more normal method, forcing the doors of the house to open through the use of low explosives.

Not powerful enough to actually destroy the house, but enough to destroy the doors.

Not for the first time, Sirius actually wished that he could join the troops that are going into the houses, but mindful of his position within the hierarchy, the former Marauder successfully – though there are quite a number of close calls – kept his penchant for action in check, and he did this by recalling the choices that he had made in the past that had led to the position where he is right now.

Unlike his best friend James – who had opted to take a 'public' career – Sirius joined Imperial Intelligence practically the moment that he had arrived in mainland Britannia. Never had Sirius imagined – or at least, back when he was still unaware of the long arms of the Holy Empire – that the muggle government would be aware of what was going on in the magical side of the great divide, so he reacted with surprise when what waited for him in the port where he had disembarked was not a gorgeous young woman – granted, Sirius had not arranged for that, so even if things had been normal, there would be no gorgeous woman waiting for him – but a reception committee composed of four men in dark and neat pressed suits that broadcasted the fact that they are government.

Sirius would later learn that they are members of the Imperial Investigative Bureau, and through those agents, he was able to contact Imperial Intelligence. It had not been an easy journey, but over the course of the past few years – more than two decades of working with Imperial Intelligence – he had been posted all around the world.

His first assignment was in the Far East, specifically, in the Empire of the Rising Sun where he helped the local police hunt down Imperial subjects that are operating a smuggling and drug ring in the capital of the Empire. Shuttling from Tokyo, Hong Kong – then a Britannian possession – and Manila, Sirius performed admirably. Those Imperial subjects turned out to be former Death Eaters who had disappeared following the death of their master. Almost all of them had been executed, though a few managed to escape across the Yellow Sea and into the Celestial Empire. By the time that Sirius had arrived at the Celestial Empire, the trail had gone cold, forcing him to conclude that the former Death Eaters had gone underground and could no longer be found within reasonable time.

When Harry was sent to Hogwarts, Sirius was at South America, the Confederate State of the Amazons where he operated under the nose of the local domestic security agency. Sirius had set up a massive clandestine organization that operated from within and without the government of the Confederate States that, more often than not, Imperial Intelligence was more aware of the things going on at the central government than those at the periphery of said government.

As team leader of the Intelligence team sent to the Scandinavian Union after the sighting of Albus Dumbledore and his ilk at Trondheim, Sirius was personally responsible for the identification, capture, interrogation, and eventual execution of five couriers that operated across the North Sea, providing Albus Dumbledore a means of communication between where he is hiding and his supports that remained at the British Isles. His work had been the basis for the eventual destruction of the courier system, cutting off the former Headmaster of Hogwarts for his land of birth.

Sirius was sure that there still operated those loyal to the Headmaster, but for the time being, that was not his concern.

As a reward for his success, Sirius was transferred from the frozen north and into the more temperate climates of Gibraltar and his superiors struck him behind a desk as Deputy Station Chief with the understanding that he would be station chief as soon as his immediate superior retires in as little as six months.

"Sir," the voice of the major that had been the leader of the unit that Sirius had been assigned for this mission tore Sirius from his reverie, and he turned his attention toward the man with a questioning look upon his face, "the men are coming out."

Indeed, there were men coming out from the breached house. The first people off of the house showed signs of still suffering from temporary blindness – some fell after having been pushed out of the house, and with their hands securely zipped behind their backs, even if they could see, they could not have protected their faces from meeting the ground – as they were herded out of the house.

A few minutes later, the leader of the men that went inside the house reported to his immediate superior and Sirius, "Prussians, sir," he began, "We have several caches of explosives inside the house, as well as various small-arms."

"Any indication that they are going on a mission of any sort inside the house?" Sirius asked, at the same time that he let out a small sigh of relief that – fortunately – no one noticed. He was prepared to order the soldiers to plant explosives inside the house if there were none inside as a way of justifying the raid, but it appears that there would be no need for that anymore.

"Some maps of Gibraltar with markings, sir," the soldier replied, "Including some of the dockyards and the military base, sir."

'_Bingo,'_ Sirius thought with a nod toward the soldier who made the report. The nod was acknowledged by the soldier who saluted before he left to rejoin his men in herding out the captured agents.

"Sir?" the major asked toward the direction of Sirius a few moments later.

The Deputy Station Chief returned his attention toward the man who stood with him and said, "Round up the prisoners, then radio headquarters for transports," he ordered, "I want these bastards to be already aware of how hospitable we could be to enemy agents by this time tomorrow."

As he gave the order, Sirius silently vowed that he would be there when the interrogation starts.

**Imperial Britannian Embassy**

**Madrid, Kingdom of Spain**

**April 24, 2015**

Security of an Imperial Britannian Embassy was not something that the marines that are stationed in the embassy take for granted. Redundant patrols, surveillance cameras, and checkpoints littered the compound that houses the representatives of the Golden Throne to the Kingdom of Spain, and no one is spared from the rigorous security checks that every person who wants to access the embassy had to go through.

Hermione was one of the regulars in the embassy who undergo the security check. Unlike Lady Emma – who, as ambassador to the Kingdom of Spain, has her official address inside the embassy compound – Hermione maintains a separate flat in the city. She had reasoned that it would be a way for her to get out of the embassy and to have a place where she could entertain Harry whenever he would come for a visit. So far, however, Harry had only been able to visit twice since Hermione had been posted to the Iberian Peninsula.

A small frown came across the face of Hermione as she thought about that, but that frown was quickly replaced by a smile as she was waved through the entrance by one of the marines that were guarding the compound.

She gave a brief nod to the marine and was about to lift her foot off of the brake pedal of her car when, purely by chance, she turned her attention toward her right side. There was a man there, walking along the sidewalk toward the entrance to the embassy, though he was still a few feet away from the outermost perimeter of the embassy.

He appeared to be a homeless vagabond – Madrid, for all its modernity and strict laws regarding vagrancy and mendicancy, could actually do very little against homeless vagabonds – that was pushing a small cart as he approached the embassy.

Standard practice would be for the marines to shoo the man to the other side of the street as soon as he approached the outer wall, and indeed, a marine had moved to intercept him.

Hermione blinked at the sight of the man, and the man blinked when he realized who was staring at him. Both Hermione and the man instantly realized who the other was, but it was the man who reacted first.

His reaction was to suddenly forget about the cart that he was pushing and quickly turn around before breaking into a run.

The reaction of Hermione, although slower than the man, was to shout for everyone to take cover.

The marines were quick on the uptake and they threw themselves to the ground at the same time that Hermione exited her vehicle. She was not about to chase after the man, but she did run, though in her case, she ran toward the opposite direction.

The explosion, when it came, was quite localized and it would later lead the muggle bomb technicians to conclude that the bomb was a small one, likely intended to merely scare the people inside the embassy and not to kill anyone.

Of course, when Britannia sent investigators including witches and wizards, they came to a different conclusion. It was a magical bomb, and the reason that the explosion that it caused was localized was because the bomb was intended to be charged magically through a small ritual a few minutes before it was supposed to explode.


	23. Chapter XXIII

**A/N: **I do not own Harry Potter or anything associated with it.

* * *

**EMPIRE**

**TWENTY THREE**

**Ambassador Personal Quarters, Imperial Britannian Embassy**

**Madrid, Kingdom of Spain**

**April 26, 2015**

The banners of the Holy Empire continued to fly from the masts at the buildings of the castle that was the embassy of the Holy Empire to the Iberian Peninsula even as additional security was visible around the compound. Of course, the Britannian Embassy to the Kingdom of Spain was not the only Britannian embassy that suddenly has additional security, because every Britannian embassy around the world was suddenly on a war-footing.

None could blame the Holy Empire for that stance. Never before had an embassy been attacked the way that the Britannian embassy in the Kingdom of Spain had been attacked, and though the attack was largely unsuccessful, there could still be no doubt that there was a threat.

That was the reason why an additional two companies of Britannian marines were sent over from the mainland to augment the marine complement that was protecting the embassy.

Today, however, there were additional guards in and around the embassy. Anyone who would pass by the roads around the compound could hardly miss the heavily armed soldiers together with their marine brethrens at every entrance to the compound, plus the foot patrols of soldiers outside the compound. What those passer-bys could not notice where the light armored patrol vehicles that were patrolling inside the compound.

Those armored fighting vehicles with high-powered cannons were under orders to break the walls in the compound if they have to.

At one of the highest portions of the castle that housed the Britannian Embassy, Lord Alexander watched in silence through a window as the soldiers and marines patrolled and secured the compound where the love of his life held office.

The Archduke of England had arrived just the night before with his entire staff and close to a thousand additional soldiers and marines. There was a slight problem as the Kingdom of Spain protested, but after realizing that they are dealing with Lord Alexander, they swallowed their pride and turned tail, allowing the Archduke to bring in as many soldiers and marines as he pleases, but with the understanding that after the Archduke had left, the soldiers and marines that he had brought with him – except, of course, the additional security – would come with him.

As he was anxious to be with his wife and check her condition for herself, Lord Alexander did not bother to argue. He was also well aware that he would need the soldiers and marines at the front where his job is supposed to be.

Of course, when Lady Emma learned of what her husband had done – and she was not informed of the fact that Lord Alexander would be coming, much less of the fact that Lord Alexander was a thread away from violating the sovereignty of the Kingdom of Spain by bringing additional soldiers and marines with him – she was upset – and that was an understatement – at him. Lady Emma never raised her voice in public, and she would never argue with her husband in public, but in private, she admonished him using the strongest words that she could find, and when it is just the two of them, the Lady Emma could be as colorful with her language as even Lord Alexander.

As with all of their arguments, however, Lord Alexander – indeed, even Lady Emma – has a secret weapon to end the argument, and Lord Alexander was not afraid to use it. As his wife launched a broadside against him, the Archduke stepped closer toward his Archduchess and with a simple move, he closed her mouth with his.

A smile came across the face of Lord Alexander even as he observed the patrols from his vantage point. Everything else dissolved after the kiss that the couple shared and the months of being away from each other – indeed, it would have been the same even if it was just weeks – finally ended and the two of them dissolved into the arms of each other.

At that, the Archduke returned his attention toward the direction of the bed that was the centerpiece of the room that he and his wife was in. The room that was reserved for the ambassador carried all the trappings required to impart upon a casual visitor that this is the room of the highest representative of the most powerful nation to the Iberian Peninsula.

The bed was a four-poster that fitted Lord Alexander and Lady Emma just fine, though he imagined that she found it uncomfortable, not because of the size of the bed, but because of the fact that he is not beside her every night.

Still, it was an improvement over his accommodations. Much as Lord Alexander like staying aboard his flagship, he would have to vote for the soft cushion of the four-poster of his wife than the hard plywood-like mattress in his quarters. That bed was big enough for two, but just barely, and because Lord Alexander had made the request, though even then, it had caused quite a fuss with the upper echelons of command.

There were many paintings – most of them are, of course, imitations – inside the room, but aside from the ever-present replica of the Passage of Tears, what really got the attention of Lord Alexander was a relatively unknown painting that depicted the Peninsular Campaign. At the centerpiece of the painting was a portrait of Arthur Wellesley, Duke of Wellington and the Fist Grand Marshall of the Holy Empire of Britannia – though, technically, Britannia had not existed yet when the Duke of Wellington died.

Aside from the man who is supposed to be seated at the Golden Throne, no other person – certainly, no one outside the York Family – have ever held the position, and since a woman is seated at the Golden Throne, there is currently no Grand Marshall, no man who has the power to command any unit within the Holy Empire – save the Imperial Knights which would always be under the command of the person seated at the Golden Throne – at any time and for whatever reason.

"Not satisfied with the security that you arranged yourself?" the soft voice of his wife tore Lord Alexander out of his reverie and at the same time informed him that she is now awake.

"Hardly," Lord Alexander replied, a smile came across his face as he greeted the woman whose face had always been the first thought of his mind every morning, "Good Morning, Dearest."

"Good Morning," she replied at the same time that she gathered the white blanket that covered her around her body. Underneath that blanket, the Archduchess of England, the most powerful woman in the whole British Isles, wore nothing but her lace panties.

Lady Emma walked toward her husband – but it was not her normal walk, rather, it was a saunter, an amble that was meant to seduce – and her husband could do nothing but stare at her, a hungry look upon his face.

When her body was separated from his by nothing but her white blanket, Lady Emma pressed her lips – ever s slightly – at the cheek of her husband and whispered, "Shall we skip the day today, love, and spend it in bed?"

Lord Alexander was tempted, he was sorely tempted, and he was about to agree to the suggestion of his wife when she suddenly said, "of course, we would be missing the meeting that you had insisted we hold today, unless you would want to hold the meeting in this room, with me wearing what I am wearing right now."

The chance of that happening, the subconscious of Lord Alexander knew, was nil. Lady Emma might act the seductress in private – and with Lady Emma, private would always be just her and Lord Alexander – but never in public.

Still, there was an aggressive hiss that came through the lips of Lord Alexander, and that reaction brought a smile upon the face of Lady Emma. That smile quickly turned into a full-blown laugh as she sauntered back to bed, letting the blanket around her body fall to the ground as she did so, allowing her husband the pleasure of ogling her perfect back.

"If you're not going to throw yourself in the bathroom within the next two minutes, Dearest, I am going to go ahead of you," Lady Emma warned.

"We could share," Lord Alexander suggested with a smile on his face.

The smile on the face of his wife told him that she would want nothing more but to agree with his suggestion, but the practical side of things eventually asserted itself, "And come out of the bathroom dirtier than when we first entered it?" she asked with a mock shocked tone, "no thanks."

Lord Alexander shook his head with a smile on his face, but while Lady Emma returned to bed, the Archduke of England made his way to where he had dumped his suitcase and quickly fished out a change of clothes.

"This attack," the Archduke said as he fixed his change of clothes – and his change of clothes was just another uniform – inside the walk-in closet that leads to the en-suite, "Why here? Why now?"

"I think the more apt question would be who is behind the bombing," Lady Emma opined, "We find out the who, we would more than likely find out the why."

"No doubt," Lord Alexander said. He pulled down his pajama pants as he stepped into the en-suite.

Silence descended inside the room for a few moments as Lady Emma waited to hear what her husband would say, but when it became certain that Lord Alexander was not going to say anything else, she added, "You already have a list of people, do you not?"

The sound of the shower being turned on was quickly followed by the voice of the Archduke, "I do, yes," he replied, "And the name at the top of the list would be the North Africans."

"Sensible, considering that we are at war with them," Lady Emma replied, "I would have guessed Prussian."

"War by proxy, you mean?" Lord Alexander asked, "Yes, that is why they are number two on the list, but I do not really think they would want to involve themselves in this war, they have far too many problems to the east and the north, with the Soviets making noises, and the Scandinavian Union making drumbeats, I would have guessed that they would rather not start anything to their west."

"And this is Britannian territory only by fiction of law," Lady Emma replied, "The flag of the Holy Empire flies over this castle, and Britannian subjects operate and occupy this embassy, but this is the Kingdom of Spain, no matter how much we harp about this being sovereign Britannian territory."

"That bomb would not have made it into the embassy compound, and judging from the disguise employed by the bomber, he, and whoever his employers are, is aware of that fact," Lord Alexander added, "If that bomb had exploded the way that it was meant to, Spanish subjects would be in the casualty list."

There was silence as both considered that. Both Lord Alexander and Lady Emma are aware that the only reason that there are no Spanish subjects in the casualty list was because the casualty list was small. Two dead, plus a dozen injured, all Britannian.

"You have a third name in the list?" Lady Emma asked.

"The Mage Problem back in the British Isles," Lord Alexander said, at the same time, the sound of the shower stopped and Lady Emma knew that her husband was already toweling off. The man could take a shower in as short as ten minutes, maybe less. She supposed that it came from the fact that he did spend four years of his life in Annapolis.

"I wonder why they are not first in your list," Lady Emma commented at the same time that she stood from the bed. As she was walking toward her own wardrobe, she quickly added, "it was a magical bomb, after all, enhanced by a magical ritual."

"I would not have imagined Albus Dumbledore resorting to such means," Lord Alexander said. He stepped out of the shower with a towel wrapped around his body, "Lord James impressed upon me that his former Headmaster would try to act as civilized as he could, or at least, as civilized as people were back when Dumbledore was a child."

"A hundred or so years ago, I am sure," Lady Emma replied.

"Probably more," Lord Alexander commented. A sigh escaped from somewhere inside him through his lips before he added, "There are other reasons why he could not be on the top of the list, foremost of which would be the fact that he has both Imperial and Scandinavian authorities hunting after him."

"He could hardly plan a strike like this and so far from where he is," Lady Emma agreed. She paused for a few moments as she turned her attention toward her husband just in time to watch as he put on a white shirt, "What about the possibility of a new party at that faction?" Lady Emma asked, "They have been at the receiving end of the stick these past ten years, I think that there would be those amongst them that would tire of being under the thumb of the old man."

Lord Alexander had to admit that he really did not think that that would be possible, but the Archduke of England conceded that that may happen. His opinion of the former Headmaster of Hogwarts was colored by the stories that he had heard from two vassals who had always been closed to the former Headmaster before they were forced to turn to him for help, the Duke and Duchess of Oxford.

As much as Lord James and Lady Lily no longer see Albus Dumbledore with colored lenses, it could not be denied that their opinion of the man was still influenced by their youth. The youthful opinion of Lord James and Lady Lily had always been that Albus Dumbledore is unlikely to lose control of his organization.

"Let us see what the others would think of that, Dearest," Lord Alexander said a few moments later.

**Silver Hall, Imperial Britannian Embassy**

**Madrid, Kingdom of Spain**

**April 26, 2015**

Despite the name of the hall, the Silver Hall within the castle that housed the Britannian mission to the Iberian Peninsula was not filled with silver. There were a few sculptures that were coated with the silver, but there were not nearly enough of them to justify naming the hall with its name.

Of course, the curtains on the numerous windows in the hall were silver, as were a few highlights in the hall, but everyone inside the room knew that the name given was a name of convenience. Every hall inside the castle was named after a color, and this hall just happened to be named after silver.

Inside the room, the close staff of Lord Alexander sat at their designated chairs around a rather long table. There were no nervous glances being exchanged between the people inside the room, but at the left side of the table, both Lord James and Lady Lily are sure that that was because of the fact that the right side of the table heavily outweighed the left side in terms of occupants.

The military advisors and military close staff of Lord Alexander occupied the right side of the table while the civilian staff occupies the left side. Lord Alexander, being an active military officer, has more military advisors and staff than he has civilian.

Led by Admiral Kevin Cline – who, as chief of staff to Lord Alexander occupied the immediate right hand side of the table – the military staff included, just for this meeting, the marine brigadier general who has command of the embassy security.

The chief of staff was busily engaged in small talk – with hushed voices that made it impossible to eavesdrop, at least from the position of Lord James and Lady Lily – with Vice Admiral Daniel Ashford. Exactly what the two military men were discussing could range from the embassy bombing to the latest frontline reports coming from North Africa.

At the left hand side of the table, Lord James and Lady Lily were joined by two civilian members of the embassy staff. The first was the man in charge of the civilian side of the embassy, while the other is a visitor from the mainland, but the man that was appointed by the Imperial Investigative Bureau – a civilian agency despite its quasi-military functions – to be in charge of the investigation of the bombing.

All three of the newcomers would not be able to be of much assistance, and everyone inside the room knew that they would be politely asked to leave the room as soon as they finished making their reports and the real discussion between those who are in the know would commence.

A nudge from his wife made Lord James turn his attention toward her. When he was looking at her, she turned her attention toward him, but before Lord James can say anything, Lady Lily said, "You know that this bombing is probably the most talked about news in the mainland right about now."

"Probably eclipsing the news regarding the war, yes," Lord James agreed. A sardonic smile came across his face before he added, "People tend to forget that there is a war going on involving the Holy Empire."

Lady Lily nodded her agreement, "and that is the reason why I think that this bombing has something to do with the war," she said. It was something that the spouses had discussed during the relatively short flight from the British Isles – where the two of them were based because of the duties of Lord James in the British Isles Parliament – and they had come to a grudging conclusion that there is the possibility that their former Headmaster had something to do with the bombing.

It was not that it was something that they had not considered before; it was just that the two Hogwarts alumni never thought that their former Headmaster would do something like involve civilians. It was for that reason that they never actually thought to be wary of such an attack.

"Make the public aware of the war?" Lord James asked, "They are aware, it is just that they do not give much importance to it," a soft sigh escaped through the lips of the Duke of Oxford before he added, "It is not as if the war is being fought next to their homes."

Lady Lily was about to say something, but whatever it was that she was about to say was cut-off at that moment because the doors to the hallway suddenly opened. All attention was turned toward the direction of the door, and before anyone can say – indeed, even before anyone can think of – anything, everyone that was seated inside the room took to their feet in respectful greeting to the two people who were about to enter the room.

Lord Alexander and Lady Emma would never look like a power couple in the traditional sense, but everyone inside the room – even the three newcomers – knew very well that looks could be deceiving, and that adage could not be any truer when it comes to the Archduke and Archduchess of England.

"Please, take your seats," Lord Alexander said as he helped his wife to her own chair. The design of the table inside the room was such that there are two chairs at the head of the table. Lord Alexander and Lady Emma took those seats.

When everyone was seated comfortably in their designated seats, the Archduke of England turned his attention toward his chief of staff and said, "I assume that you have your own list in there, Admiral Cline," but before the admiral could say anything, Lord Alexander turned his attention toward Lord James and added, "And I am sure that you also have your own list, Lord James."

Both men nodded in response, but neither spoke a single word, fully understanding that if their liege lord wanted to hear from them, he would have said something. Lord Alexander appreciated that fact as he turned his attention toward the marine officer who was in charge of the security of the embassy.

The man had not tried to raise a fuss when Lord Alexander practically supplanted him in his office the moment that the Archduke had arrived. The patrols that were going around the embassy were the idea of Lord Alexander, but the men who were actually doing the patrolling were still under the command of this man. Fortunately, the marine officer – rather uncharacteristically of him, given that he is a marine – had not raised a fuss about it.

"Let us start first with an update on our security situation," Lord Alexander said. He nodded toward the marine general and added, "General, please."

"Sir," the marine officer replied in acknowledgement before he launched into his report. It was mostly the report that Lord Alexander was expecting and contained anecdotes regarding the now standard patrols roaming within and without the embassy grounds. The officer also noted that there has been an increased presence of Madrid Police in the area, but so far, the local authorities are not complaining.

'_It would be unlikely that they would be complaining,' _Lady Emma thought, _'the embassy has been attacked and they are probably still thinking that we are going to blame them for it.'_

The marine officer ended his report twenty minutes later with a summary of the damage that was suffered by the embassy grounds – which was minimal – and the current status of his men who were injured in the attack.

"Anything else of note that we should be aware of, General?" Lord Alexander asked. It was strange that he was the one who was leading the meeting considering that this is the turf of Lady Emma, but it was also true that Lady Emma would rather defer to her husband.

"One other thing, Admiral," the marine officer replied, "One of the men injured in the attack said that Ms. Granger gave a warning before the bomb exploded," there was a look of relief on the face of the officer as he added, "It was thanks to her warning that most of the men in that area were able to get to cover."

"Regrettably, Hermione was injured in the attack and is still unconscious following the injuries that she had sustained," Lord James added, "While moderate at most, the injuries that she had sustained during the bombing were enough justification for the doctors to keep her sedated."

Lord Alexander nodded, fully aware of what his highest ranking civilian advisor was trying to do. To be frank, though, Lord Alexander was not about to question where the loyalties of Hermione lie. The woman came from a family that had proudly served the Holy Empire for generations, and though the fact that she was a student under former Headmaster Dumbledore was something that would always blemish her record, no one could question her loyalty.

"It just means that she recognized the attacker," Vice Admiral Granger suddenly said. A small smile was exchanged between the two couples in the room – Lord Alexander and Lady Emma, plus Lord James and Lady Lily – as they considered that it was just like the adjutant of Lord Alexander to defend his family.

"And that is not outside the realm of possibility," Lord Alexander said. He did pause for a few moments before he turned toward Lord James, "You understand that if she recognized the bomber, then it stands to reason that the message was being sent from the British Isles."

Lord James nodded. The Duke of Oxford knew why his liege lord was looking at him when he said that. The British Isles, while nominally the responsibility of the Archduke of England, was under the administration of the Duke of Oxford pending the return of Lord Alexander from the battlefield. It simply means that the hunt for the culprit or those behind the culprit would be the charge of Lord James.

"Your Grace," Lady Lily suddenly interjected, forcing everyone in the room to look at her. Aware of the attention that she had garnered, but unfazed by the same – she was well used to it by now, even before she became Duchess, she was stealing attention with her work for the Ministry of Justice and Ministry of Foreign Affairs.

"Duchess?" Lord Alexander asked.

"Your Grace, we have discussed another possibility, my husband and I," and at this, she glanced toward Lord James who nodded toward Lord Alexander. The Archduke of England politely inclined his head toward the Duchess indicating that she should continue.

"What about a new party to the question of the British Isles?" Lady Lily asked, "Hermione could have identified the bomber, but until she wakes up, we cannot be sure which faction the said bomber owes loyalty to. It could be one of Dumbledore's men, but it could very well be a person from the other side of the fence, it could even be someone whose loyalty is actually to one of the many factions that divide those two general factions."

Lord Alexander nodded, aware that the Order of the Phoenix led by Albus Dumbledore and the Prussian-allied Death Eater faction has their own cliques within their own respective movements. It was not unlikely that those cliques have their own agenda.

Turning his attention toward Lord James, Lord Alexander asked, "How long before Hermione wakes up?"

"No one actually knows, Your Grace," Lord James replied. A small smile came across the face of the Duke of Oxford before he added, "Harry is with her right now, keeping vigil, though I suspect that he would not be in the right state to send us a message when Hermione wakes up."

To the surprise of many on the table, Lady Emma actually laughed at that, "I should think not," she commented.

**Order of the Phoenix safe house, Trondheim**

**Norway, Scandinavian Union**

**April 26, 2015**

Albus Dumbledore was worried and when he is worried, the rest of the Order of the Phoenix are also worried.

There were not that many original members of the Order that still remained in Trondheim, or in the Scandinavian Union for that matter. Increased activities by the local law enforcement authorities – with Britannian support – had made it necessary to move most of the members of the Order out of the country. Of course, they are supposed to be working outside of the country with a few members who are trying – mostly in vain – to recruit new members.

Only the highest ranking members of the Order still remain in the Scandinavian Union, and most of them are not even located within the same cities. The reason that they had not yet left the country was, ironically, the same reason that they want to leave the country.

The tightening net of the local law enforcement authorities hunting for them had made the top leaders of the Order so recognizable that the Order leaders doubted that they could leave the country even with the aid of the most powerful glamour charms.

Despite the truth that the Order was getting smaller and smaller as the days passed, the room where the Order holds its meeting was still close to full. The handful of new members that had been recruited after the Order fled the British Isles crowded one side of the room.

An assorted bunch, their numbers include wizards and witches from the British Isles to as far away as the Empire of the Rising Sun, while their academic background ranges from Hogwarts to some who are home-schooled by their parents in the more traditional magical traditions. All of them, however, had given oath to see to the accomplishment of the goals of the Order of the Phoenix.

That bunch was still to unofficially elect a leader, though Dumbledore could see the reason why no one was yet to volunteer. Their experience was not that great, with a great many of their numbers not even being given their first mission as of yet.

At the other side of the room, those members of the Order who had been there when the Order was forced to abandon the British Isles silently conversed among themselves. The former Headmaster of Hogwarts was aware as to what they are talking about.

This was not a meeting that was scheduled, it was an emergency meeting that the Headmaster had called for using a patronus charm. That alone was enough to tell those who are in attendance of the importance of the topic of today. Magical nets had been erected all around Trondheim and nearby cities that would have caught that patronus if not for the fact that the Headmaster used a modified spell that the nets could not catch – as of yet.

The door to the basement opening tore Dumbledore out of his reverie and he turned his attention toward that direction just in time to watch as Alastor Moody entered the room. As was expected, the gruff former auror went straight to the heart of the matter, and without any pleasantries, he said, "Let's get this over with, Albus, I have things to do."

The former Headmaster of Hogwarts did not doubt that for one moment. Alastor Moody had become the man in charge of coordinating the Order members who are still in the country. His job requires him to come up with measures to counter the ever expanding magical net, and with the way that Dumbledore had called for this meeting, there was little doubt that the former auror would once more be busy looking for new safe houses and shuffling Order members.

"I suppose you have all heard about the bombing of the Britannian embassy in the Kingdom of Spain?" Dumbledore asked, and though it was phased as a question, there was little doubt that the former Headmaster of Hogwarts was aware that everyone in the room had heard about it.

"What about it?" Moody asked in his gruff voice. It was obvious that the man who is in command of the combat arm of the Order of the Phoenix was unwilling to play the game of the former Headmaster of Hogwarts today, but that was fine with Dumbledore because he was also not in the mood to play around with words right now. He needs to have answers as soon as possible, and this desperation is highlighted by the fact that there are a total of eighteen agents that are on their way to the mainland right now, to join the thirty or so that were already there.

If the Holy Empire would react drastically to the bombing of their embassies, then those agents would be the first to go, most likely, those who are on their way to the mainland first.

"How do you think would they react?" Dumbledore asked. He turned his attention toward his oldest friend inside the room, though everyone in the room understood that the question was meant for everyone inside the room.

"They'd probably increase security," one of the new recruits said.

Moody snorted toward the direction of the man who said something. Although the former auror was one of the few people who are actually successful in recruitment, it does not mean that the former auror trainer would be easy with them, "Of course, they would increase their security," he said with obvious disdain for what the man knew was stupidity on the part of the new recruit, "Do you think they are idiots? Or stupid? You cannot build an Empire as large as the Holy Empire of Britannia if you are stupid."

"Alastor, please…," Dumbledore began.

Moody snapped at the words of his friend, and turning his attention toward the former Headmaster, he asked, "Are you worried that they would close their borders and start hunting our people?"

Dumbledore nodded, but before he could say anything, Moody added, "They would increase the pressure for a few weeks, a few months at the most, but then, the pressure is always there, for the people already inside, but no way the Holy Empire would close their borders."

"How can you be sure?" one of the old hands of the Order asked, "Sure, there were few casualties, but one of their embassies had been attacked, I don't think that has happened before."

"It has never happened before," Dumbledore confirmed, "Though there have been a number of terrorist attacks and assassination attempts and successes within the Empire that was later labeled as terrorism."

Moody snorted, "And in those instances, has the Holy Empire actually closed their borders?" he asked, but without waiting for a reaction from the people inside the room, the former auror quickly added, "Of course not, else, we would not have been able to send our people there."

"And the Archduke of England?" Dumbledore asked. Everyone inside the room knew that the former Headmaster had developed a mini-obsession when it comes to the Archduke of England. The Archduke, after all, was the person who had made the Order flee their country.

"As powerful as he is…," Moody began.

"His wife is the Ambassador of the Holy Empire to the Kingdom of Spain," Dumbledore pointed out, "He would react."

"But not against us," Moody argued, "He would react against those who are behind the attack, not against those whom he thinks are not worth his time, and I assure you, the Archduke of England thinks that the Order is below him," he shook his head before an accusatory look came across his face, "I am the operations head of the Order and as operations head, I know every single operation we have planned or are planning," and fixing his old friend a hard stare, Moody demanded, "I want you assurance that we had nothing to do with this."

Dumbledore nodded. Even if he wanted to lie to his friend and say that they had something to do with the attack, it most likely would not be believed. In any case, there is no advantage to be gained by claiming responsibility for the attack.

"I still worry…," Dumbledore began.

Moody cut him off once more, "So long as we had nothing to do with this attack, then we have nothing to fear," an ironic smile came across the face of the former auror before he let out a harsh laugh, "well, not more than we already do."

**Kottelberg Castle, West Pomerania**

**Prussia**

**April 26, 2005**

There was a reason why the people who called themselves Death Eaters only meet at night. The reason for that is because not only does a few of their number have important duties during the morning – not counting Lucius in his unofficial role as advisor to the Kaiser even if the Kaiser and Lucius had never actually met in person, there are about two dozen others who are connected in an official capacity with the government – but also because of the fact that some members of the Death Eaters are actually wanted criminals in the Prussian Empire.

That they have earned that distinction had caused Lucius no amount of small grief since he is acknowledged as the leader of the Death Eaters in the temporary absence of their master. It was rather fortunate that the law enforcement authorities of the Reich are unaware – or perhaps, they are, but they are unwilling to use that knowledge – that Lucius and those Death Eaters are meeting in the middle of the night in the castle that the Kaiser and the Reichstag had seen fit to allow him to live in.

The circumstances of this meeting, however, were anything but normal, and despite the danger that it may bring to a few members, Lucius had decided to call for the meeting as soon as possible.

The Death Eaters were also in the middle of a meeting that was unscheduled, but unlike the Order, the members of this particular group were not being hunted down as a whole, at least, not by those who have the authority to do so in the Prussian Empire, because the Holy Empire is also out to get them, only they could not operate in the Prussian Empire legally.

That being the case, there was no need to be wary of the method that was used to call the members together, and for this bunch of traditionalists, only the most traditional of invitations would do, even if those invitations are mostly politely worded demands demanding the presence of the recipient.

The owls were prepared just this morning, barely five minutes after Lucius had heard from his contacts within the government that there was a bombing attack against the Britannian Embassy in the Kingdom of Spain. The original plan was to schedule a meeting, but when Lucius was informed that the attack was a magical attack – through back-door channels with the Kingdom of Spain – he decided to call the meeting as soon as possible.

That was the topic that was going to be discussed inside the castle today, and as Lucius Malfoy surveyed his gathered comrades at the Entrance Hall of his castle while he was at the second floor of the castle, the aristocratic unofficial leader of the Death Eaters wished that there would be someone whom he could trust amongst his former comrades.

The truth was while there are those whom he would have with him in a fight – while he was guarding his backside, of course – there was none that he would trust not to turn on him at the earliest possible opportunity, and for a brief few moments, he wondered if the bombing in the Britannian Embassy was a manifestation of such attempt to unseat him from his unofficial position.

After all, if it was an attack that, ultimately, could be traced to the Death Eaters, then he, Lucius Malfoy, should have been made aware of it. Of course, that would have made things a bit messier than the Malfoy patriarch was prepared to deal with.

"My friends," Lucius said as he descended down the stairs to join his comrades at the entrance hall of his castle – well, not really his, but he had been living in the place for more than ten years now.

As the Malfoy family patriarch had expected, all eyes turn toward his direction even if a few of the Death Eaters in the crowd are clearly already too drunk to actually notice what was happening. For a split few seconds, Lucius regretted the fact that he allowed alcohol before he made his address, but after realizing that only those who are not so deep into the Inner Circle of the Dark Lord was drunk, he realized that he should actually be thankful since those who have no idea what they were going to say were already precluded from the meeting.

"Lucius," Thorfin Rowle was the first one to greet back, and though there was a hostile look on the eyes of the man – Lucius suspected that he had pulled Rowle out of something that he wanted to do – he was respectful enough that Lucius did not think it would serve the purpose of anyone to call him out, "Why are we here?"

The question was repeated at the other end of the room by Walden McNair, but the former Ministry executioner has something else to say, "Were your people able to eliminate Goyle?" he asked.

Lucius cursed under his breath as he was reminded of that failure. The bombing of the Embassy had caused him to turn all of his attention toward that problem, but there was still the fact that the Holy Empire would soon learn just who is behind the North African Mage unit. Goyle may be able to resist torture – having been tortured almost daily by the Dark Lord for his general incompetence – but there was no way that he could resist a mind-reader.

"That is one of the reasons that I had asked for all of you here today," Lucius finally said, though he was well aware that it was just an addendum that he did not really want to add. He was only forced to do so because someone brought it up, "but we can discuss that after the primary reason that I asked for you to be present today."

"A full house today, Lucius," Walden noted, but Lucius did not deign to comment. He had specifically asked for everyone so that he could take care of the problem regarding the loyalty of the Death Eaters if there truly was a problem.

"I presume that you have all heard about the bombing of the Britannian Embassy in the Kingdom of Spain?" Lucius asked, and though McNair looked miffed that Lucius did not deign to respond to his assertions, the man did nod, "The casualties are not that many and the Britannian Embassy itself is not severely damaged, but we can be assured that they will respond to those who had attacked them."

"What concern is this of us?" Rowle asked, "Let them kill each other."

"Our concern here is the fact that the attack was a magical attack," Lucius said, and when everyone inside the room – at least, those that could still focus – turned their attention toward him, he quickly added, so as to preclude them from saying anything else, "And the Holy Empire would look at every magical group that has a history with it."

"Us and the Order," Yaxley said.

Lucius turned his attention toward the usually silent man and gave him a nod. No one really knows what Yaxley did that allowed him to climb into the Inner Circle of the Dark Lord, but whatever it was, it was surely something big because the former Auror had been initiated into the Death Eaters just four months before he got the coveted position.

The competence of the man was something that had made Lucius want to approach him a number of times before in the past with the intention of making a sort-of hierarchy among the Death Eaters, but ultimately, while Yaxley is probably someone whom Lucius could trust with the operations of the group, there was still the question of being stabbed in the back. With Vincent Yaxley, Lucius felt that there was more than double the chance because no one knew exactly what he did before.

"Did we have something to do with the bombing?" Yaxley asked. The question was directed toward Lucius, but it was an open question that anyone in the room could answer if they had the inclination to do so.

"Which is what I would like to know as well," Lucius said, and he knew that when he said that, everyone in the room became aware that this was not a sanctioned Death Eater operation, if, indeed, it was a Death Eater operation.

There was a few moments of silence as everyone in the room looked at each other in an attempt to find something that would betray knowledge, but after it became clear that no one would be admitting anything – or, indeed, that the bombing was not a Death Eater operation – Lucius finally said, "We should be aware that if this was us, then not even the protection of the Prussian Empire would be able to keep us from being a target of revenge," he shook his head for emphasis and added, "I do not think I need to remind you of how long the hand of the Britannian Empire is."

For a few moments, Lucius prayed that his comrades are not involved in this. He knew that there was no way that it could be the Order who would carry out the bombing, but if his comrades are not to be blamed, then the only possible explanation for the attack would be the appearance of another group, and for some reason, that made Lucius shudder when he consider what the implications of another group appearing may be.

**Madrid National Hospital**

**Madrid, Kingdom of Spain**

**April 26, 2005**

There are many facilities inside the Britannian Embassy, but a fully functioning hospital as not one of them. The theory was that the medical facility inside the embassy would just be used either as a facility where the casualties could be stabilized before being sent to a nearby hospital or – if a nearby hospital facility is actually not available – before being evacuated to Gibraltar.

The bombing at the embassy had not deprived the embassy from using the nearby facilities, and it is at the Madrid National Hospital – the premier hospital in the city – that the casualties were brought to after they had been stabilized.

It was in one of the rooms in the isolated hallway – and it was indeed an isolation hallway, given the marines that were guarding all of the entrances to the hallway, unarmed, but definitely dangerous – that Hermione was brought to after she was stabilized from the injuries that she had sustained.

They were minor injuries, but she had also managed to hit her head upon the pavement, causing a mild concussion. The doctors felt that that was enough justification to keep her under a medically induced comma while they examine her wound. Hermione had not woken up yet even after she had been removed from the medically induced coma.

It would not have mattered to Harry, because the young lieutenant commander would have waited no matter how long. The doctors had assured her that she was going to be fine and that after a few days of rest, she would be back at the peak of her health, and while that had done much to alleviate the worry that Harry felt for his fiancée, there was still the uncertainty of some injury or damage done that even the most stringent of medical examinations would not have detected.

As he stared at the sleeping form of the woman that he would someday marry, Harry released a sigh from deep within his being. He knew that Hermione would already claim that she is fine, and the report that Harry had received from the doctors, plus the fact that he would hear her voice, in the mind of Harry, that would remove all of the worry that he is carrying upon his shoulders – well, all the worries that had been placed there the moment that he learned that she had been injured in the attack.

Harry had very nearly gone absent without leave at the front in his attempt to go to Spain, but fortunately, Lord Alexander had allowed him a few days of leave from the front. The Archduke had even allowed Harry to take a transport aircraft – one of the now established regular routes on account of the ongoing war – from Cairo to Gibraltar, and from there, to Madrid.

Needless to say, the lieutenant commander had not actually been to the site of the attack, because the moment that _HMS Iron Duke_ docked at the civilian airship yard, Harry – having already secured permission from Lord Alexander – was off to the hospital. He had not left since the time that he entered the doors to the hospital, and that was more than twenty hours ago already.

Without even changing to civilian clothes – he could not have changed, even if he wanted to, he left everything back at the forward operating camp – Harry had stayed at the hallway. The presence of a man in the desert camouflage pattern had done more to dissuade media personnel from entering the isolated hallway, far more than the uniformed marines – mostly because they are wearing dress uniforms, rather than the fact that they are unarmed – at the entrances have.

As his gaze turned toward the sleeping form of Hermione once more, Harry unconsciously clenched his fist. He was well aware that this is the first time that a Britannian Embassy had been attacked, and though the Holy Empire was not a stranger to terrorism – the predecessor of Lord Alexander was assassinated in what was classified as a terrorist attack around one hundred years ago, and the parents of Lady Emma were both killed in a bombing – and for a brief few moments, Harry wondered what kind of person would have ordered such an attack.

Clearing his head, however, Harry thought, '_it would not have mattered anyway, because we had already been attacked, and such attack demands a response.'_

Further musings on the part of Harry were interrupted at that moment when the lieutenant commander heard the boots of the marines guarding the hallway snap to attention. Whoever was coming was someone that not only was allowed to enter – given that the marines did not stop the person – but also was someone whom the marines would go to attention for.

The doctors and nurses that check the patients would not have caused the marines to come to attention.

Harry watched as Lord Alexander entered the hallway. The Archduke of England was not alone, but that was hardly surprising given his position. What was unusual, however, was the fact that the Archduke was accompanied by his wife rather than his full staff.

For a few moments, Harry just watched, but he quickly realized his position and quickly snapped to attention before offering the man in charge of the North Africa Theater – and since Harry is still assigned to the North Africa Theater – his salute.

Lord Alexander returned the salute almost instantly, before he gave Harry a nod. The Archduke of England did not say anything as he turned his attention toward Hermione.

"I am told that she is going to be fine," Lord Alexander said. The statement was meant for Harry despite the fact that he did not turn his attention toward the man.

"Yes, Admiral," Harry replied, taking note to use the proper tittles. With people like Lord Alexander – who not only have more than one title, but are very strict when it comes to using the proper salutations accompanying those titles – it was almost impossible to keep track of which honorific to use.

"Good," Lord Alexander said, nodding. He stared at the figure of Hermione for a few moments before he turned toward Harry, "I suspect that now that you are aware of that, you would not let this incident distract you any more than necessary from you doing your job?"

Although it was phrased as a question, Harry knew that Lord Alexander was making a demand. It was something that the Archduke was entitled to make, and Harry, just for a brief few moment, would have not replied in the affirmative.

His training kicked in though, and the naval officer in him nodded, "Yes, sir," he replied.

"Good," Lord Alexander said, "For a few moments there, I thought that you would be off pursuing the perpetrators of this attack instead of doing your job."

"My Lord, I…," Harry began.

Lord Alexander stopped Harry from saying anything else by raising his hand. The Archduke then shook his head and said, "Even we already know just who is behind the attack, I would not have given you permission, Commander."

Harry paused for a few moments, but then nodded. He was well aware that the use of Lord Alexander of the military rank was deliberate. It was his way of reminding Harry that he was still a commissioned officer with the Fleet, and the Fleet has need for him at the front.

"I need you to take command, Harry," Lord Alexander said, and as he said that, the General-Admiral of the Grand Fleet retrieved a small box from his pocket which he then handed to Harry, "Special Forces, mostly Force Recon, are going to be sent ahead of the regular units from this point in because we have no idea what we should be expecting again."

Harry took the box that his liege lord had handed to him. Opening it, his eyes widened as he recognized the two golden circles that are the rank insignia of a commander in the Fleet. That he is being promoted again – this would be his fourth promotion in less than a year – would be unprecedented.

"You need the rank," Lord Alexander simply said, though before Harry can say anything, he continued, "You would be needed back at the field by the end of the week, because that is the time frame that the last of the men under your new command had given me. By that time, new units from the mainland and from all around the world would be joining you."

Harry nodded, and Lord Alexander smiled before he added, "I need you and your men to make sure of a number of things, Commander Potter, and these are things that you could only be sure of by actually going to the beach and making the test there."

Harry did not find that surprising since that was the mission of Force Recon in the first place. To go ahead of the main units and determine the strength – if there is any – of the opposing force that could be moved to block the main units. The use of the term 'beach', however, has Harry curious.

Lord Alexander seemed to sense the curiosity of Harry, and that made the Archduke smile all the more, "Yes, the beach," he said. Beside him, Lady Emma actually started to silently laugh even as she covered her mouth.

"In addition to duties at the eastern front of this ongoing campaign, you and your men would be making sure that we can open our western front for this campaign," Lord Alexander said, "You and the men under your command would be the ones who would be sent ahead of the landings at the coasts of the western part of the North African League."

' _The opening of the second front,'_ Harry thought, _'Operation Orange Sunset'_


	24. Chapter XXIV

**A/N: **I do not own Harry Potter or anything associated with it.

* * *

**EMPIRE**

**TWENTY FOUR**

**Northern Sahara, Approximately thirty five kilometers west of pre-war border**

**North African League**

**May 6, 2015**

Harry fought the urge to sigh as he scanned the western horizon with his naked eyes. He had a pair of binoculars with him, but the ocular device was secured around his neck with a lanyard, which was a good thing because his right hand was enclosed around the pistol grip of his AR22 assault rifle – with his index finger inside the trigger guard, just a few millimeters away from the trigger – while his left hand was over his head, keeping his cover – a desert camouflaged campaign hat – from flying off of his head.

The young commander – he certainly was one of the youngest in the history of the Holy Empire – knelt on one knee while beside him, two marines – both armed with the same rifle as Harry – kept their guns pointed westward. He knew that both marines are ready to open fire, and he knew that those marines would open fire without hesitation once they are given the command.

Fortunately – or unfortunately, depending on the point of view – this was supposed to be a reconnaissance mission. The members of the Marine Force Recon – combined with Imperial Navy SEAL's and Ground Forces Engineering units – had been sent out to examine the ground that would soon be the scene of epic fighting between the Britannian Eight Army and the remaining North African League forces in the area, though as much as possible, Britannian counter-intelligence is trying to keep the exact date of the launch of the offensive a secret from the North Africans.

Strictly speaking, Harry need not go out with this unit, him being the commander, but he had decided to go out anyway, allowing him to divide the nearly fifty men under his command this time into three groups. Harry retained command of the second group, which is the close cover for the largest of the three groups, the ones that were doing the actual examination.

The first group is under the command of Harry's old partner, Lieutenant Edward Brooke, and was deployed slightly ahead of the second group. Their mission was to watch for approaching unknowns and to report the same to Harry who would then decide what to do. Owing to the distance-related assignment of that group, all six of the snipers that were deployed with this unit were under the command of Lieutenant Brooke.

As Harry removed his left hand from over his head, he finally let out a single sigh. He turned his attention toward the two men with him – he had deployed his twelve man squad on the cardinal points of the compass, three men each direction – and motioned for them to lower their guns. If the North Africans are coming, Edward would have them in his sights first, and Harry had no doubt that his old partner would give them enough warning, not only for the men and Harry to raise their arms again toward the direction where the North Africans are coming from, but also for Harry to arrange _all_ of his men into the optimal ambush position.

The events of the past ten days had been hectic to say the least. Two hours after Lord Alexander had promoted Harry to his current rank devoid of any ceremony, Hermione woke up from her medically induced coma. Harry, of course, was the first person inside her room, overtaking even the emergency doctor who was alerted to her regaining consciousness via wireless feed.

After Harry had made sure that she was fine – really, it was after she had admonished him after he started to make a fuss over her – Lord Alexander and Lady Emma entered the room to check on Hermione themselves. The Archduke and his Archduchess are not really that interested in knowing who the person that Hermione had recognized, but Hermione volunteered the information even before the Archduke could steer the conversation into the attack.

'_It was a schoolmate of mine,'_ Hermione had said, '_an older Gryffindor student, Cormac McLaggen.'_

Harry had not met the man during the few weeks that he was deployed to Hogwarts, but that was not surprising considering that Hermione and the man ran in different circles. It was just that the man was an upper-class of Hermione who was her housemate that she recognized him.

'_He was disguised,'_ Hermione also said, '_The kind of disguise that I would not have expected from a pureblood, and he is a pureblood.'_

Needless to say, the former Gryffindor was now one of the most wanted men in the whole of the Holy Empire with a bounty of a quarter of a million pounds hanging over his head. It was a bounty that was larger than the one of the head of Professor Severus Snape and Alastor Moody combined.

At the same time, Lord Alexander had tasked an investigative unit – a combined unit from the Imperial Investigation Bureau, the Imperial Security Agency, and the Imperial Central Intelligence Agency – that had secretly flown in from the mainland to investigate McLaggen and his connections with both the Order of the Phoenix and the Death Eaters. Harry also suspected that Lord Alexander had ordered the unit to keep an open mind in regards to third parties actually trying to enter the secret war, though Harry had not actually heard his liege lord say as much.

What Harry does know – from the letters that Hermione had sent via secure electronic link – is that Hermione is now attached to that unit as the embassy liaison. Any and all results of the investigation of that team would go through her after she had been appointed by Lady Emma for the position.

At the same time that Harry was sent back to Cairo then the frontlines – two days after Hermione had been released from the hospital, and just three days ago – he had been informed of sightings of several Order members in the British Isles, but because the report came in while Harry was planning for this operation, he had not had the chance to look into the report just yet. He promised himself that he would look into the report after he finish debriefing his men and General Neville Tovey – who is now present in all debriefings together with Major General Anton Carleton, the commander of North Africa Theater Special Forces Command – of the situation.

As his thoughts drift to the man who is in command of the Eight Army, Harry could not help but think about the situation at the frontlines. Elements of the Eight Army – specifically, XXVII Corps, with its two armored division and its two mechanized infantry divisions – had already moved to the designated start lines, although most of the men that form the corps are, as of yet, unaware of when the offensive would start.

At the same time, the Imperial Fleet had increased their operational tempo, hoping to catch a few more elements of the North African Fleet in battle, but since their disastrous defeat at the hands of Lord Alexander, the North African admirals had kept their ships close to port and had refused to venture out.

Harry knew that the loss of their armored cruisers had disturbed the North African League Admiralty. Of course, with their fleet closed at hand, the North African Admiralty could use them to support defensive efforts, though there is somehow doubt that that would happen owing to the presence of the Britannian fleet.

With regards to Lord Alexander's planned offensive from the west, there was no news, though that was hardly surprising given operational secrecy. In any case, Harry knew that his job was not to think ahead of his liege lord, but rather to support him to the best of his ability when the time comes.

One of the supports that Harry was expected to give Lord Alexander was advice on the North African mage unit. Following his promotion to Commander, Lord Alexander had specifically chosen Harry to be the officer in charge of the unit that was investigating the North African mage unit.

What was originally a unit that was set up in order to investigate the likelihood of a North African mage unit had became a unit that was tasked with locating and dismantling the same. It was not an easy job given the secrecy that still shrouded the magical world, but though Harry – and the men under his command – would acknowledge that their job would be easier if the shroud of secrecy was lifted, none of them would suggest the same given the possible consequences of such a decision.

A sigh escaped from the lips of Harry before he returned to the present. He fought the urge to once more take his binoculars and scan the horizon in front of him. He knew that if there would be a problem, the unit under the command of Lieutenant Brooke would do exactly what they are supposed to do.

Harry hated not doing anything and that was the reason that he turned his attention away from the west and back to the east, toward where the largest team was doing their job. A good twenty meters separated Harry and his two man team from where the third team was, but because this was desert, there was really nothing that was preventing him from watching the Ground Forces engineers poke the desert with their sticks. Exactly what those men were trying to do with those sticks, Harry could only vaguely understand, though he knew that those sticks measure the consistency of the sand, or some such, to make sure that they could support the weight of heavy military equipment.

Harry glanced at his wristwatch and noted the time before he returned his attention to the west. '_Half an hour or so more before we have to get out of here,'_ he thought. The timetable was dictated by circumstances, because it was well known that the North African League sends regular patrols along this route. Harry privately thought that he and his people could take out the patrol, but at the same time, doing so may alert the North African League of the impending offensive.

To be sure, they are already probably aware of the coming blow of the hammer, but they do not know exactly when that hammer is going to fall.

"Sir," the voice of one of the men in his team tore Harry out of his reverie, and the young naval commander turned his attention back toward the west. A questioning look was on the face of Harry as he regarded the young marine who got his attention, though before Harry could say anything, the young rifleman pointed toward the horizon.

Harry turned his attention toward the direction indicated just in time to see someone approaching at a run. His first instinct was to raise his rifle and order the man to stop, but Harry did not do that because he was able to – albeit belatedly – recognize the uniform that the man was wearing.

The approaching man was one of the men under the command of Lieutenant Brooke.

Waving his arms, Harry ordered the two marines that were already pointing their weapons toward the direction of the man to lower their weapons. At the same time, Harry broke into a run to meet the approaching marine. If the marine was running, then there surely was news and Harry could not wait for the fifteen second that it would take the man to cross the remaining distance to hear that news.

"What's going on?' Harry asked as he intercepted the marine.

"Commander," the marine said, "Lieutenant Brooke sent me, he reports that there are approaching vehicles, fifteen in all, from the direction west, markings on the vehicle indicates that they are North African."

Harry fought the urge to curse at the same time that he turned his attention toward the marines under his direct command. His first instinct was to order his men back at the same time that he would order another messenger – not the one that had just made the report – to get Lieutenant Brooke and his people back here, but before he could make up his mind, another thought blossomed on the mind of Harry, and as it did so, a deadly grin creased his face.

**Headquarters, Britannian Imperial Grand Fleet**

**Gibraltar, Holy Empire of Britannia**

**May 6, 2015**

Hermione gently rapped her knuckles on the wooden door that marked the entrance to the dining room here she knew her liege lord and his lady were enjoying their breakfast. The sound of someone from the other side – and it was a male voice, so it was Lord Alexander – telling her to come in was all that Hermione needed to hear before she used the same hand that knocked on the door to turn the knob.

Hermione gently pushed the door after a few moments – after a bit of hesitation, for unlike Harry, Hermione was still not that used to dealing with Lord Alexander, though she is very used to Lady Emma – and was staring at the make-shift dining room where Lord Alexander and Lady Emma were having their breakfast.

That the room was not usually a dining room was evident owing to its size. Hermione knew that the dining room was downstairs at the ground floor and it was filled with tables for the sailors and soldiers that were assigned to this place. The dining hall also serves buffet rather than sit-down, but certain accommodations have to be made for Lady Emma – and Hermione knew that it was for the Archduchess because she knew for a fact that Lord Alexander and his staff made it a point to have breakfast down at the dining hall.

A small table – it could seat four – was placed in the center of what was clearly a spare bedroom. A makeshift table cloth was then thrown over the same in order to hide the fact that it was probably a simple desk or planning table. Over said table cloth, four sets of utensils were placed, complete with four platters of breakfast dishes at the center of the table with a pitcher of juice and a pot of coffee.

Hermione had to admit that this was not what she had expected when she was told to join Lord Alexander and Lady Hermione for breakfast and for her presentation of her report. That was the reason why she hesitated once more when she saw two of the most powerful nobles in the Holy Empire seated beside each other at one end of the table, but a quick smile from Lady Emma made Hermione decide to stay.

That this was an informal meeting was advertised by the fact that both Lord Alexander and Lady Emma were wearing informal clothing. Lady Emma was wearing a white shirt – which Hermione suspected she nicked from the cabinet of her husband – and a long pair of blue jogging pants – '_that also probably came from his wardrobe,'_ Hermione thought – while Lord Alexander was wearing a Fleet Physical Exercise Uniform – a white shirt with the insignia of the Fleet on the upper left hand portion of the shirt together with a pair of gray jogging pants – that most officers often use as their nightwear.

That does not mean, however, that the General-Admiral was unarmed, as Hermione could see the pistol grip of the non-standard – and actually foreign-custom – sidearm of Lord Alexander – _'He's the General-Admiral, so he gets to decide what kind of pistol he gets, and Lord Alexander chose the P11(S),'_ Harry had told her once – poking out of his jacket which hung from the backrest of the seat of the General-Admiral.

"Set to," Lord Alexander said, forcing Hermione out of her reverie. She turned toward the Archduke of England just in time to see the man motion for her to take one of the seats at the other end of the table.

Hermione hesitated, and she could tell that Lady Emma had expected her hesitation. The Archduchess smiled at Hermione before she nodded, telling Hermione that it was alright to join them, but there was still some hesitation on the part of the young witch.

After a few moments, she did finally take a seat, choosing to sit in front of Lady Emma – since she was more used to the Archduchess than her husband – though she still was not sure what she should do next.

"Try the eggs," Lord Alexander suddenly said, "They're very good," and with a slight smile, he turned toward Lady Emma and said, "I really should conscript your chef and have him placed aboard my flagship."

Lady Emma let out a small smile before she replied, "He's Spanish, dear."

"Then I would offer him citizenship if he would consent to serve aboard the _Iron Duke,_" Lord Alexander declared. He returned his attention toward Hermione and said, "You really should eat something, else not only would your doctor, but also your boyfriend would be coming after me."

Hermione managed a blush at that, but she hurriedly hid the redness on her face by bowing slightly and reaching for the platter with the eggs. Her action precluded her from seeing the amused smile on the face of both Lord Alexander and Lady Emma, and because both have removed the smile on their faces a few moments later, Hermione did not actually see the look on their faces.

Once Hermione had filled her plate – not only with eggs but with the other breakfast selection that was on the table – Lord Alexander said, "I know we asked you here to hear your preliminary reports on the bombing in the Embassy, but we could discuss that over breakfast."

"First off though," Lady Emma said, glancing toward her husband with an annoyed look – and Hermione suspected that that was as close as she would get to witnessing a private moment between the married couple – "How are you?"

It was a question that Hermione had expected from Lady Emma, but because the Archduchess had been personally monitoring Hermione over at the Kingdom of Spain since she was released from the hospital, Hermione instantly realized that the question was asked for Lord Alexander.

"Not as good as I was before the incident, my Lady, admittedly," Hermione said, "but I am getting better."

Lady Emma smiled at her before she said, "I was worried when you volunteered to take charge of the investigation, Hermione," she admitted, "You had no experience in such investigations before, and there were a few snags with the investigation committee, but you have proven them wrong and you had impressed a great number of them."

At that, Hermione had reason to blush. She had kept that fact from Harry, the fact that she had volunteered to take charge of the investigation. At the time that she made the request, she was just newly released from the hospital, and she had to admit that she was not thinking properly owing to the effect of the drugs.

As an added afterthought, she did not really think that Lord Alexander would consent to giving her the job, and no one was more surprised about the appointment than her. Of course, those members of the two intelligence agencies that were investigating the bombing – Imperial Intelligence and Imperial Investigative Bureau – rarely got along, so they saw her appointment as an attempt to get a neutral person over them.

Lady Emma, though, was correct. Hermione knew that in the last few days that she had worked with the composite team that had been tasked with the investigation, she had impressed a great many of the members of the composite team, spotting things where most of them would not even look.

Hermione supposed that it was the function of experience. The men and women that she are working with have had years of experience, and while, in general, that experience was something that they could rely on, it also meant that they are looking – subconsciously or not – at established patterns. Sometimes, that is a mistake.

"It helps to have a fresh set of eyes," Lord Alexander said as he put down his knife and fork over his plate. The Archduke then lifted his cup of coffee and sipped from it before he returned his attention toward Hermione, "Those that are staring at something for far too long often find themselves looking for things that they expect to see, rather than trying to make sense of things that they are actually seeing."

Hermione nodded, but did not say anything. She did turn her attention toward her plate – untouched – before she returned her attention toward Lord Alexander who smiled at her and politely inclined his head toward her direction.

"Eat something, Hermione," the Archduke of England said, "I am afraid that your boyfriend might find something to fault me with if you do not eat."

Lady Emma actually laughed at that, "While I suppose we could see Commander Potter as someone like you, husband, I think he would be far more sensible than you."

"I resent that," Lord Alexander said, but after a few moments, he did join in with Lady Emma, and started laughing.

Hermione stared at the two of them for a few moments, wondering if it was some private joke between the two of them that made the two of them laughing that way, but after a few moments – as she cut a piece from the perfectly cooked egg in her plate, actually – she decided that she does not need to know.

The laughter between Lord Alexander and Lady Emma lasted for a few more moments, but by the time that it died down, even Hermione could tell that the time for serious talk had arrived. Subconsciously, she straightened up at her seat before she turned her attention toward two of the most powerful people – arguably – in the Holy Empire.

"I think that, as a member of the Embassy staff, you would be more comfortable starting with the international implications of the attack at Madrid, Hermione," Lord Alexander said. The Archduke of England once more sipped from his coffee, but this time, Lady Emma followed suit, also sipping from her own coffee cup.

Hermione had been prepared to bet that that was where Lord Alexander would ask her to begin. There was no point in briefing Lord Alexander and Lady Emma on the identity of the bomber because both of them had already devoured as much information as they could gather regarding the man.

Hermione had spent some five years living in the same tower as Cormac McLaggen while both Lord Alexander and Lady Emma spent less than twenty four hours in the same castle as the man, but Hermione was prepared to bet that the Archduke and his wife know almost as much as the would-be bomber as Hermione.

As she watched the action of the General-Admiral and his lady, Hermione reminded herself that Lady Emma was more comfortable drinking coffee than she is in drinking tea, unlike most female members of the nobility. Hermione also knew for a fact that, between Lord Alexander and Lady Emma, it was the latter that drinks more coffee.

Hermione could actually remember a letter from Harry about Lord Alexander complaining to his staff about the caffeine that Lady Emma takes on a daily basis.

Hermione, however, forced herself to return to the present. The mind that had served her so well during her time at Hogwarts – a mind that allowed her to claim the title of 'the brightest witch of her age' – had served her well as a servant of the Golden Throne, and it was that mind that allowed Hermione to be able to give her report despite the fact that she actually did not carry any written report with her when she entered the room.

"Reaction from allies and likely foes were within what was expected, sir," Hermione replied, "Of course, the Kingdom of Spain is still thinking that we are going to blame them, which, may prove problematic in the future."

"How so?" Lord Alexander asked. Hermione turned her attention toward him and got the distinct impression upon looking at his face that the Archduke was already well aware of the answer to his own question but still asked. Hermione could not decide whether or not he was testing her, and whether or not she liked it.

Nevertheless, since she had been asked a question, Hermione answered, "They could increase security around the compound where the embassy is, Your Grace," she said, "While the same may seem to be a boon to us, such increase security would, inevitably, mean an increase in the number of patrols and soldiers around the embassy, which could easily be used by the Kingdom of Spain as a form of surveillance against the embassy."

Lord Alexander actually smiled at her before he nodded. For a few moments, there was silence in the room as Lord Alexander sipped at his coffee once more – and Hermione was surprised that Lady Emma was not saying anything, but she put it down to the fact that the Archduchess was probably of the opinion that this was probably because the lady had already shared her misgivings with her husband, which was not really that surprising – but that silence ended when the Archduke replaced his cup on the saucer on the surface in front of him.

"And what of the biggest concern we have in mainland Europe?" Lord Alexander asked.

Hermione instantly knew who Lord Alexander was talking about, "The Prussians are most certainly not the ones who are behind the bombing," Hermione reported, though even she knew that that report was superfluous. Everyone was already aware that the Prussians are not the ones behind the attack, especially since Hermione was the one who had identified the attacker.

Of course, there was still the opinion that her former schoolmate was acting upon orders of a select few members of the Prussian Empire. Hermione supposed that that was to be expected. after all, the Prussian Empire had always been the biggest rival of the Holy Empire, and it was not exactly a secret – at least to those who are in the magical world – that following the imperial take-over of Hogwarts, the Death Eaters and their followers had fled to Prussia and sought refuge there.

Such a move would not have been possible without at least some token support from the Prussian Empire, and there are unconfirmed reports that the Prussian Empire had actually taken in some of these Death Eaters.

"And your basis for such a conclusion, Hermione?" Lord Alexander asked, leaning forward toward Hermione as he did so.

That action was all that Hermione needed to see in order to know that this time, Lord Alexander really was asking a question. Whether it was because the Archduke of England was of the opinion that the Prussian Empire had something to do with the bombing or not, however, Hermione could not tell.

A mental sigh escaped from Hermione before she said, "The person who carried the actual bomb was someone whom I knew, though not that well," she admitted, "Still, your grace, it stands to reason that the Order and the former Headmaster of Hogwarts was behind this attack, given that Cormac McLaggen was someone whom the Death Eaters would rather not associate with," she paused for a few moments but quickly added, "He was a former Gryffindor and he has familial connections to the Order of the Phoenix."

Lord Alexander nodded, though he paused for a few moments after that, evidently digesting the information that Hermione had just given him. Hermione kept her silence during that time, as did Lady Emma, though it was obvious that she and Lord Alexander were having some sort of communication as they stared at each other.

After what seemed to be an hour – but in reality, was just a few seconds – Lord Alexander gave his wife a small nod before he returned his attention toward Hermione, "It is one possible explanation of his loyalty, Hermione," Lord Alexander said.

Hermione nodded, well aware of what the Archduke of England was saying. The report that McLaggen used to hang out with a cadet from the Imperial Naval Academy – one of those deployed to Hogwarts Castle in 1995 together with Harry – was considered to be a matter of grave importance.

If the man who had carried a bomb to the Britannian Embassy – thus illustrating his hostility against the Holy Empire – was friends with a member of the Fleet, then this must be investigated, for it is possible that such officer had been compromised, and if so, it must be determined how deep and how far such corruption had spread.

Equally important is to find the answer to the important question of just who influence who. If it was McLaggen who influenced the unknown cadet, then they may have a sleeper within the ranks of the Imperial Fleet, but it was ten times more worrisome if the inverse was true, if it was the unknown cadet who influenced McLaggen.

Such would indicate a cancer within the ranks of not only the Imperial Fleet, but probably within the whole of the Holy Empire itself.

"The Naval Academy connection also worries me, Your Grace," Hermione finally admitted

Before she could say anything, she was distracted by the bright smile on the face of Lady Emma as well as the amused one on the face of Lord Alexander, "I think I know why you are worried about that," the Archduke of England said, but before Hermione could say anything, the General-Admiral shook his head, precluding Hermione from saying anything, "The loyalty of Commander Potter had never been in doubt, of that, you could be certain."

"In any case," Lady Emma suddenly said, "The reports had indicated that our mystery cadet made the acquaintance of our bomber during the 1995 Hogwarts deployment, and while this may only be conjecture at this point, I tend to agree with the report that this is the most likely scenario," the Archduchess beamed at Hermione once more before she added, "And we all know that Commander Potter spent most of his time with the girl who would someday replace his mother as Lady Potter."

Hermione actually blushed at that, though once more before she could say anything, Lord Alexander returned to the conversation, "The deployment model had always called for an even number of students to be deployed to the field," he turned toward Hermione and asked, "Do you understand the implication of that?"

The relatively young girl – well, she was nine years younger than both Lord Alexander and Lady Emma – nodded. The fact that the naval cadets were deployed in an even number was to facilitate pairing, and this means that in field deployment, a cadet would always have a partner.

What the Archduke was saying is that the unknown cadet, who had a partner, probably influenced both cadets or – if the inverse was true – then the two cadets were the ones who had influenced the former Hogwarts student.

"I think we can also remove Lieutenant Brooke from the list of suspects," Lord Alexander said, "As the partner of Harry during that deployment, he would have kept an eye on him," and with a smile, the Archduke added, "And the lieutenant would have kept an eye on him as well, which, quite frankly, made him busy."

Hermione blushed once more at that. She knew what the Archduke was saying, that because Harry and she were too busy hanging out with each other, Edward Brooke probably did not have much spare time because he was also keeping tabs on Harry.

"That being said, however, there remains the possibility of a cancer within the ranks of the Imperial Navy," Lord Alexander said, his face turning serious. For a few moments, there was a pause before the Archduke turned his attention toward his wife and said, "I would not have a repeat of this incident, especially when you are concerned."

Lady Emma – perhaps for the first time in public – put down her foot on what Lord Alexander was about to suggest before he had even made the suggestion, "No," she replied, and before Lord Alexander – who looked ready to argue – could even his mouth to argue, the Archduchess once more put her foot down, "Those men are not even supposed to exist, you cannot – and I will not allow – their existence to be compromised because of a threat that we cannot even be sure truly exists."

"It does exist," Lord Alexander argued, "they have already tried to attack you."

"They tried to attack the embassy, not necessarily me," Lady Emma replied, she smiled toward Lord Alexander and Hermione watched as the Archduke actually visibly deflated, "Those men, you would need them for something else, something bigger and something far more exciting than simple guard duty."

As Lord Alexander stared at Lady Emma, Hermione watched both of them at the same time that she wondered exactly who the Archduchess was referring to. From the words that had been used, she could deduce that it would be a group of men, probably a military unit, but being – technically – a civilian, Hermione was not sure whom Lady Emma was referring to.

In any case, from the tone used by both the Archduke of England and his wife, it seemed certain that this unit that they were referring to was not going to come from the old ranks of the Imperial military.

Hermione, however, could not figure out why Lord Alexander would find the need to raise a new unit, and from the reaction of Lady Emma, it was clear that the unit was a secret. That made things even more confusing, because Hermione could not really figure out why Lord Alexander – who is in command of the North African Theater composed of his fleet and the Eight Army – would not only raise a new unit, but also keep the same a secret.

**Northern Sahara, Approximately thirty five kilometers west of pre-war border**

**North African League**

**May 6, 2015**

General Zakarria Akrnoul was uncomfortable with the four stars on both of his shoulders, but the man knew that he had to keep up appearances, especially since he received his promotion while in the middle of a crisis.

At least, he would have labeled it as a crisis, but his superiors would rather not talk about the reason why the youngest division commander in the North African League was suddenly the youngest general ever given the task of, at the least, holding an entire Britannian Army.

His subordinates, on the other hand, were the complete opposite. Although most of them would trust their new general to be able to keep them in line and not to get them slaughtered uselessly, they are also aware that it is an almost impossible task for them to even do an orderly phased withdrawal with the Britannian Eight Army at their heels. It made for a morale crisis amongst the ranks.

That morale crisis was the least of the worries of General Arkrnoul as he led a small – relatively – force of scouts with the intention of seeing – as close as possible – for himself the extent of Britannian preparations for a renewed offensive.

An infantryman by training, General Arkrnoul was well aware that his infantry would have nothing on hand – at least, not anymore – to stop the Britannian tanks, and he knew that the Britannian Chariots would be leading the offensive. What compounded his problem was the fact that the general knew that the Britannian tanks are going to advance under the cover of Britannian fighters, fighter-bombers, and close air-support aircraft.

General Arkrnoul lost his fighters and fighter-bombers even before he was appointed commander of the defense. In the beginning four weeks since the start of the war, the North African League Air Force had been at the receiving end of a massive air battle. Equipped with far superior aircraft – the Wraith fighter being acknowledged as the best single-seat fighter aircraft in the world – the Britannian Army Air Force and the Fleet Air Arm of the Britannian Fleet mauled the North African League Air Force.

The only thing that the new commander of the North African League defense force has going for him was the fact that the Britannian Fleet was not in the equation. The general shuddered involuntarily when he thought just how impossible defending North African League territory would be if Lord Alexander would decide to send the Grand Fleet to the field.

The general shrugged and returned to the present. He knew that he was in the business of realities and not the business of fantasies. It was a reality that his men could not hold back the Britannian juggernaut, but it was also a reality that – if he planned his defense accordingly and perfectly – he could make the Britannians pay in blood for every single meter that they would take.

Planning for the defense and deciding the optimal defensive strategy was the reason why General Arkrnoul was out of his field headquarters – though, in reality, he would have preferred to be out anyway, the headquarters was too stuffy for the former infantryman – and was riding shotgun in the first of five BRDM-2 Scout Vehicles.

The five armored cars were crewed by a combination of men from the elite reconnaissance battalion of the North African League Special Forces and members of the personal bodyguards of General Arkrnoul. The North African League brass had learned their lesson well after the decapitation that the Britannians had handed to them during the first month of the war, and now, soldiers accompany the commanding officers no matter where they go.

In the opinion of General Arkrnoul, however, even that may not be enough. The death of the former commanders of the North African League Eastern Front was done by members of the Britannian Marine Force Reconnaissance Group, and those men are some of the toughest in the world. The commander of the North African League defense forces was prepared to bet that his country could not deploy anything that would even come close to the capabilities of the Britannian Marine Force Reconnaissance.

"Sir," the voice of his senior aide – seated behind him – forced the general to return to the present. It was not possible for the general to turn his attention backward – it was blocked by the seat – so his aide would just have to assume that the general could hear him, "We are approaching the depression, sir."

General Arkrnoul nodded though he was sure that his aide could not see that. The depression that his aide was talking about was the centerpiece of the defensive plan of the general. He knew that Britannian heavy armor units – which are likely to lead the attack – would have no choice but to bypass it. If the general plays things right, he could sprung an ambush against the Britannian supply units with units that he could conceal at this location. Of course, the same limitations that the Britannians would have to work with would also apply to the North African League.

Fortunately for General Arkrnoul, while Britannian tanks are heavy and would probably sink in the depression, he still has a make-shift battalion – in actuality, he had to make the composite battalion when he first thought of the plan that he was now considering to employ – of light tanks. True, the tanks that they would be using would be the oldest tanks in North African service – old Prussian Mk II panzer tanks called Golem in North African service – but they would be more than enough to stop the Britannian supply convoys, if played right.

The vehicle slowed down in response to the driver stepping lightly on the brake pedal. The general was sure that the other vehicles behind his were also slowing down at the same time that the scouts that were aboard those vehicles were preparing to dismount. The scouts have orders to take soil samples as well as measurements, but the data would have to be interpreted at the rear.

The sound of the explosion made General Arkrnoul and the men inside the vehicle nearly jump from their seats. As they are the vehicle in the front of the column, they could not tell where the explosion came from, but from the sound of the radio suddenly become alive, it was clear that the vehicle at the center of the column – number three – was the one that suddenly exploded.

A few moments later came the confirmation that the vehicle was hit by a projectile.

"Britannian reconnaissance units?" the aide of General Arkrnoul asked no one in particular.

The commander of the North African League defense forces decided to forego shouting at his aide to inform him that that was obvious. Right now, he needed to get his men out of here. Turning to the driver, he said, "Full speed, circular turn," at the same time that he grabbed the transmitter of his radio, "Fall back!"

A second explosion followed by the quick rattling burst of machinegun fire was quickly drowned by the sound of diesel engines suddenly making their presence known. General Arkrnoul managed to look through the slit of his armored window to see at least four Britannian – the flags they were flying beside their windows were an obvious indication – armored vehicles charging at his position.

Not being an expert in visual identification despite being an infantryman – he nearly failed his field test when he failed to identify four of the five silhouettes during the identification phase of the test – General Arkrnoul cannot identify the approaching vehicles as Marine Light Armored Vehicles – the same transport that Britannian Marine Force Recon units use when it comes to long-range reconnaissance missions.

Riding the lead armored vehicle, Harry had an obstructed view through a viewing slot built into the hull of his LAVIII armored vehicle. He could see the rising flames produced by the burning BRDM2 scout vehicle, just as he could see the first two armored cars attempting to turn back to where they came from by advancing forward at maximum speed then turning.

Quickly making his decision, Harry took his radio and said, "Captain Richardson, I'm leaving the number four and five vehicle to you and Lieutenant Brooke. Me and Lieutenant Sanders would take care of number one and two."

"Aye, Commander," the voice of Captain Richardson replied, "Good luck and good hunting."

The four armored vehicles under the command of Harry split up in response to the instruction sent by their commander. The second and fourth vehicles turned slightly to the right while the first and third vehicles maintained their current heading. The divided group then went after their respective targets, with the units of Captain Richardson going after the last two North African League scout cars that were now frantically reversing.

At the same time, the first two North African scout cars had completed their turn and were now once more oriented toward the direction where they came from. At the appropriate distance, the gunner aboard the armored vehicle of Harry opened fire with the turret mounted cannon, but because the targets were moving, the fire was not accurate.

In response to the Britannian move, the turret of the BRDM car nearest to Harry – number two vehicle – came alive and swung toward the direction of Harry. The turret had a relatively heavy machinegun and the weapon opened fire, but the bullet – a bit over fourteen millimeters in caliber – was not strong enough to pierce through the armored hull of the LAV III.

A distant explosion echoed around the depression as the number five North African vehicle exploded, riddled with twenty five-millimeter cannon shot. Number four vehicle stopped as the driver frantically pushed his gear back to forward even as his gunner tried to intimidate the approaching two vehicles of Captain Richardson and Lieutenant Brooke away from him.

"Lieutenant Dugan, anytime now," Harry radioed.

Lieutenant Chester Dugan did not disappoint and suddenly two more armored vehicles – one of whim was the LAV-AT variant appeared just in front of the North African number one and two vehicles. The number five Britannian vehicle – one armed with the cannon – opened fire at nearly point blank range as the North African number one vehicle swung to its right in an attempt to evade a collision.

The result was the cannon rounds penetrating the vehicle at the middle and back, right where the diesel engine of the BRDM was mounted. The engine gave one last wheeze of complaint before it died. As it was fed with diesel rather than gasoline, the vehicle did not caught fire as the engine died, killing the number one vehicle.

At the same time, the vehicles under the direct command of Harry, Britannian vehicle number one and two, swung to the right to get out of the line of fire of the two vehicles of Lieutenant Dugan which swerved slightly to its right to evade the disabled North African number one vehicle.

Suddenly, Lieutenant Dugan's vehicle – number five vehicle – executed a full turn to the right, seemingly in an attempt to evade the approaching North African number two vehicle. In reality, Lieutenant Dugan just moved out of the firing line of the LAV-AT that was following behind him.

The sixth Britannian vehicle fired a TOW missile at almost point blank range, and it slammed into the North African number two vehicle at just under three hundred meters per second. The explosive power of nearly six kilograms of explosive flipped the vehicle twice in mid-air before the vehicle settled down on the sand on its roof.

Harry quickly directed his vehicle and number two vehicle to cover the disabled North African number one vehicle at the same time that Captain Richardson confirmed the surrender of the number four vehicle of the North African League column.

Harry was well aware that there are some survivors on the other vehicles and most of those are frantically trying to escape their burning vehicles on foot. What was strange about the number one North African League vehicle, however, was the fact that no one inside of it was trying to fleet. That was strange considering that, aside from the already surrendered BRDM, this BRDM was the one that is the least damaged.

A thought crossed the mind of Harry that perhaps the occupants of the scout vehicle intended to resist, but the sad fact for them was that even though their heavy machinegun could make an infantry team think twice about approaching the vehicle, the rather thin armor of the scout car could hardly stop a twenty five-millimeter cannon round, especially at the distances involved.

"Shall we encourage them to get out of the vehicle, sir?" the gunner asked. Harry knew that his gunner was thinking of spraying the BRDM with a few rounds from the co-axial machinegun – the smaller caliber rounds of the machinegun would most likely not penetrate the armor of the scout car – but Harry shook his head.

"Let them come out on their own time," Harry said, at the same time that there was a loud explosion as one of the downed BRDM exploded, the fuel lines of the same most likely exposed to a small flame.

Suddenly, the door of the scout car opened, and Harry could literally feel the trigger finger of his gunner tense on his trigger. A white flag, however, was the first thing that came out of the vehicle, and Harry did not need to order his gunner to stand down before the man calmed down.

Four men exited the vehicle, which is what Harry expected. What he did not expect, however, were the stars on the shoulders of one of the four men.

"Looks like we bagged ourselves a general," Harry commented to his crew at the same time that he grabbed the transmitter of his radio and broadcasted his finding to the rest of his troops.

Captain Richardson, as Harry expected, was the first one to react, "They should place that in your portfolio, commander," the marine force recon commander said with humor evidence with his voice, "I think it would look nice when the civilians back home look at it, 'General Hunter' or something like that."

Humored laughter followed the announcement of Captain Richardson and Harry allowed it to go on for a few moments, before he reinforced discipline and ordered his men to return to their jobs, though he did so in such a way that he instilled in his troops that he was not offended with their laughter.

It was a few minutes after his men had secured the hands of the captured general behind his back that Harry finally learned the identity of the captured man. The moment that he did so, the young commander wondered just who would be replacing General Arkrnoul from the position that he had been forced to vacate.

At the same time, Harry could not help but wonder if Lord Alexander and the rest of the brass really would insist on sticking him with some sort of silly nickname to reflect the fact that he had now lead two teams into decapitating the headquarters of the North African League unit that is supposed to defend against the westward advance of the Britannian Eight Army.

'_Now 'the Decapitator' does sound nice,'_ Harry thought.

**Aboard the **_**Great Henry**_**, Liverpool Docks, Liverpool**

**England, Holy Empire of Britannia**

**May 6, 2015**

Well wishers lined the dockside, waving handkerchiefs in the traditional farewell gesture as the giant, four-funneled ship maneuvered itself away from the dock with the help of half a dozen ocean tugs.

The _Great Henry_ was the flagship of the Green-King Lines, the largest trans-Atlantic passenger consortium in the world. Formed from the marital union of two of the largest business empires in the Holy Empire – the Green Family whose primary business was electricity production and banking, and the King Family who owns the largest steel production concern in the world – the Green-King Lines – GKL as it was referred – had made no less than two dozen big ships meant to carry both passenger and cargo across the Atlantic. They operate only eighteen of them, having sold the others to smaller companies.

The _Great Henry_ was named after the founder of the King family, and registers just a little under one hundred twenty thousand tons in tonnage. She could accommodate a little over two thousand passengers across twelve passenger decks who are them pampered by her crew of fifteen thousand men and women. Powered by four diesel turbine engines, the three hundred fifteen meter long ship could reach a maximum speed of thirty knots but typically cruise at just under twenty six knots to save fuel and power.

This information are all available from the crew – having been drilled almost endlessly with the answers to questions that are the most likely to be asked by the passengers – and from the flyers that were distributed by said crew to passengers as they boarded the ship.

In general, the passengers want to know the information, but there would always be those who would think that all of this is beneath them, and for the two people who sat inside their cabin at the tenth deck of the passenger ship, actually being at the ship was more trouble than it is worth.

Still, both Ron and Ginny thought that way because they believed that it would be better for them to use magical transportation in reaching the mainland. They have, however, been briefed as to just how suicidal that would be. No one actually knows how, but it is common knowledge that a powerful anti-appiration ward surrounds the whole of the mainland Britannia. Portkeys also would not work because of the same ward, and an approach via brooms would only be advisable if the distances involved were relatively short range.

Mainland Britannia is a continent by itself, an isolated continent, which means that the distances involved would be large swaths of open ocean where navigation would be impossible – unless one could navigate by the stars, but that was a dying art in the magical world. It probably would not even matter because of the Chain Home and Chain Low stations.

The former was the long-range radar that covers every approach to the mainland. A long range radar system, it lacks the ability to detect small objects approaching, but that defect is covered by the Chain Low system. Short range it may be, the Chain Low has the ability to detect even the smallest objects approaching the mainland. The two systems work with the Britannian Coast Guard – or other units appropriate – to intercept anything that may be considered a threat, and two mages approaching the mainland on a broom would most certainly be considered a threat.

On the other hand, security inspections for passengers using purely mundane transport – such as ocean liners – would hardly be there. That was the reason why the Order had made the decision to transport Ron and Ginny using the ocean liner.

It was not a simple task, locating two passengers that Ron and Ginny could impersonate, and it was not all that successful as well. The two had to take polyjuice potion to get pass the customs inspections, and they would be forced to take polujuice every time that they are not inside their cabin.

They also have to share one cabin between the two of them. It was a cabin in the business section of the ship so it was relatively large, but neither Ron nor Ginny would want to spend a three day journey inside the room with their sibling. The reason that they had to share, however, was because the Order could only find a husband and wife.

Impersonating two strangers would have been easier for the two when it comes to their accommodations, but the decision was made to keep them together because this would be their first time in the non-magical world.

Still, despite the complaints and threats that are being exchanged between the two, neither of them could deny that they are finally glad to be moving toward their objective. The few weeks that they stayed in the British Isles was not what they had expected, with them dodging the ever diligent secret intelligence service that were still hunting for them.

T hey could only wish that when they finally reach the mainland, they would not go through what they had gone through in the British Isles.

**P14A410 OPERATION HERMIONE Page 24**


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